Rise From The Ashes
by Chocoholic221B
Summary: Kurapika Kurta was just a normal college student trying to balance school life with his plans to avenge his family. Until one day, he stumbled upon a crime scene and was promptly kidnapped by the Head of the thieves that caused it. All because the police didn't answer their phones fast enough. It was decidedly too difficult to stay alive after that. KuroKuraPairo. Shonen Ai.
1. Remember The Fire

**Disclaimer: I don't own HxH**

 **Rise from the Ashes:**

 **Part I:**

 **Remember the Fire**

January 8th, XX15 : Age 13 : In the Library

 _Phoneutria, commonly known as the Brazilian wandering spider is the most venomous arachnid known to the human species. The Phoneutria fera and Phoneutria nigriventer currently hold the title of being the most aggressive and deadly of the species._

Kurapika hadn't been sure why he had decided to read a book about spiders. They were kind of creepy and had decisively too many limbs. The fact that the strange arachnids had more than two eyes was an added bonus that put them above most arthropods in creepiness. They also showed up at the most inopportune of moments. In the shower, for example, or in the kitchen, in the cupboards, even in the sheets of your bed. Was his home just going through an endless infestation of the eight-legged creatures and they were usually more considerate of their roommates?

Either way, the creepy creatures had been on his mind that day, so his brain automatically thought he must be interested in exploring that day. And of course, the first page he had to flip to was the one with the deadliest of them all. His miraculous luck was something both foreboding and fascinating.

The blond child went back to the pod of study tables. Picking a comfy armchair, Kurapika let himself sink into the colorful satin cloth and proceeded to bury himself in the spider book. By the time he got halfway, the boy came to the conclusion that spiders were little demon spawns sent to quietly conquer the world one web at a time. Indeed, that was the most logical conclusions.

The sound of sirens pierced through the quiet library, where you could hear a pin drop, a siren was practically like two cymbals clashing together right by your ear. A murmur of whispers followed, but Kurapika didn't feel like joining the conversation. Sirens were a normality here. Nothing interesting probably came of them.

The older boys next to him started to talk as well, just loud enough to render Kurapika's sensitive ears incapable of blocking them out. They, if Kurapika recalled correctly, had been there since before he walked in. He remembered one of them sported a haircut that stopped at his shoulders and framed his pale, oval face. Emotionless, bottomless, lifeless black eyes had peered at him for about three seconds when he'd made his way to the arm chair behind them. The other man looked even stranger with his colorful outfit and bright red hair. Compared to the muted colors the other boy leaned towards, the redhead looked a bit like a clown. They were both slim and muscular, though, and both their clothing looked ridiculously expensive. Confidence seemed to gather around them in a tangible sort of aura.

"Have you heard, Illu?" the one with red hair asked, conversationally, edging closer to the other with a small smile on his face. "There's been a fire on Eighth street."

Now, Kurapika knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping. His parents told him again and again that it was impolite to listen in on a conversation he had no place in. But . . . eighth street was his street, and he deserved to know if there was a fire in the neighborhood.

"You told me on our way i-" The one with the crazy eyes clapped a hand over the bottom half his friend's face before the words could even begin to fall out of the pale one's mouth.

"Yeah, it's that crummy apartment, y'know, Garden Gates or whatever."

Kurapika's eyes widened. Garden Glass Apartments. His home. No, that was impossible. Surely, they were just some kids joking around, but what kinds of freaks would joke about something like this? It was definitely a joke. It couldn't be anything else. Yeah, a joke. But the sirens. A joke! That was all it was!

What was he afraid of?

After all, it was probably nothing. It was probably just a prank. And if it wasn't then his family would just have to move. That would be okay. As long as they were all alive, it would be fine.

He got up calmly, just in case it _was_ a joke. Kurapika didn't want to give those guys any satisfaction. The book was pushed back into place, the librarian was waved goodbye, and his heart's racing was unanswered for those few seconds. And then he broke into a run. He could smell the smoke from there. This was no small fire.

Fire trucks were lined outside on the streets. The flames themselves seemed contained to just his home, but they couldn't seem to put it out either.

"Oh my god!" Kurapika heard someone scream as he rounded the corner. "There's people in there!"

Kurapika ran up and reached the outside of the yellow tape, eyes searching for the window of their tiny apartment. He covered his mouth as the wind shifted towards him, the stench of burning flesh and debris overwhelming. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Oi, kid, get back!" the owner of that heavy hand order. "This smoke is too thick."

And he was pulled away by strong arms. No, he let himself get pulled away, coffee eyes still focused on the third window on the seventh floor.

 _Mom. Dad. Grandpa._

Ah. So, this was what he'd been afraid of.

. . .

January 20th, XX15 : Age 13 : On The Steps Of The Orphanage

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder, but he ignored it. He ignored most things now. The memory of the fire playing over whatever was happening around him. The blond had only brought himself out of his stupor for the few minutes it took for the authorities to figure out he was orphaned by that fire. After that, he was shipped off to an orphanage and given over to a pretty lady with purple hair. He caught her name, Melody, and tuned in long enough to know she really did want to help. The only problem was he didn't really want her help.

"It's time for dinner, Kurapika," she spoke, voice tender and gentle. He only stood up and walked inside.

What were the last things he said to his parents? He couldn't quite remember.

Ah.

 _"I'll be back before dinner."_

He had been late.

. . .

January 21st, XX15

The next morning, Kurapika took a walk. It had been a while since he actually went outside. He usually didn't go beyond the gates of his temporary shelter.

Somehow, instead of returning to the orphanage after he was done with his walk like he should have, his legs took him to eighth street and stopped by the ruins of a place that he'd lived in for most of his life. Garden Glass Apartments. It was always there. No matter how far he went. And now it was gone. And he had nothing but his life. And it really didn't seem like a fair trade.

"The entire place burned down two weeks ago," a man said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. Wooden boxes were stacked up high in his arms, crates full of fruit and the like. He couldn't even see the man's face. "It's a real tragedy. No one survived. They're actually speculating it was arson. The work of some pyromaniac."

The blonde clenched his jaw. He knew all this already. Why did he come here? Why? Wait.

"What do you mean by arson?" he asked, eyes wide. He knew what arson was, of course, but the fact that this was it. He had to know everything.

"The fire wasn't natural. Spread too quickly and stuff. The guys inside couldn't get the windows open either, so that's pretty shifty too," the man explained. "They can't find the guy who did it though. Hey! Where are you going?"

Kurapika didn't answer him. He just kept running. He ran past the tired working class waking up for the day, past the coffee shop on first avenue, past Melody on the steps of that Victorian house of an orphanage.

"Arson," he whispered, sitting down in front of the computer. And for the first time, his words had life. Not because he'd come to accept his circumstances, but because he'd found something to change them. He'd found a reason to live. A reason to hate.

. . .

October 5th, XX21 : Age 20 : In Kurapika's Dorm Room

He was late! He was never late! How could he be late? God dammit, he was blaming this on Leorio and Pairo for taking him out for drinks so late at night! Just so he could be their designated driver. Ridiculous. And now he was late! His flawless attendance record gone down the drain just like that. Just because he figured he couldn't just let them get into a car accident while they drove back home. Sure, attendance records didn't really mean anything anymore, but he was proud of it all the same. And now he was late! Should he skip coffee? No, he couldn't just skip coffee. He'd just fall asleep during class, and then what? Alright, how long would it take to get coffee? Three minutes? Two if he was really fast.

Freshly brewed, black, please," he breathed, as he reached the cashier. The young woman just fixed him with an amused look before turning away to shout his order at the barista. He dug into the pockets of his red jacket for his wallet.

"That'd be four seventy," the woman chirped out the price, sounding far too excited about working the morning shift at a coffee shop.

"Ah," Kurapika said, once he was sure that his wallet had definitely been misplaced somewhere along the way. "I'm so sorry. It seems my wallet's disappeared."

"Oh my," the woman said, sounding ridiculously sympathetic, to the point where one could almost mistake her for the one who'd lost her wallet.

"I probably shouldn't keep up the line. Thank you." Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Late, coffee-less, and wallet-less. What had he done to make the deities frown upon him today? Was it because he corrected the teacher in front of the whole class again? It was really such a small correction.

"I can pay for him," a silky baritone interrupted, putting down a ten dollar bill on the countertop. "I'll have the same, please."

What had he done in that sixteen-second time frame to get back in the deities' graces?

He turned to his savior, who turned out to be a strapping young man with dark hair eyes, dressed in all black and pulling it off quite nicely. Kurapika averted his eyes from the well-sculpted specimen, scolding himself ever-so-slightly for finding him so attractive. He was with Pairo, and he was not messing it up. Nope. No way.

"You really don't have to do that," Kurapika said.

"But I already did."

Kurapika gave him a look between a glare and an impatient snarl. He glanced at the clock, then back at him, temper reeling its ugly head. He had wasted three more minutes than he was supposed to. Alright, alright. So, a guy wanted to buy him coffee. No big deal. He'd just pay him back.

"Thanks," Kurapika said, taking his cup and running out of the cafe. Dr. Linthroe was going to be so pissed.

At least he got his coffee in the end.

. . .

October 5th, XX21 : Age 20 : Art History 395

"Where were you?" Pairo mouthed, as Kurapika finally found his seat beside him in the extensive lecture hall. His boyfriend was dressed in a navy shirt, black jacket, and jeans. Sneakers adorned his feet for comfort.

"I'll tell you later," he mouthed back, secretly wondering why Pairo didn't have a giant hangover after yesterday. His alcohol tolerance was way too high to be normal. Sometimes, Kurapika doubted his significant other was even human.

Pairo raised one elegant eyebrow at his reaction, but let it go in the end.

"Kurapika Kurta," Dr. Linthroe spoke, derisively, "would you please come down here? I could use a volunteer, and seeing as you're so noisy, I gather you've already read the material we'll be covering."

He had. That didn't make the situation any less annoying.

. . .

October 5th, XX21 : Age 20 : Out in the Courtyard

"So, where were you?" Pairo asked, sitting down on the steps beside him and passing him one of the sandwiches he'd bought from the nearby shop.

"I was sleeping," Kurapika answered, grumpily biting into the sandwich. It was Pairo's fault after all.

His boyfriend smirked a bit and then burst into laughter. "It's because of last night, huh? Sorry. Look on the bright side, though, you missed ten minutes of class."

Kurapika groaned and buried his pale face in his knees, honey-kissed hair falling over his shoulder. "There goes my record."

"I doubt anyone was keeping score."

"I was," Kurapika whined, placing his head in the crook of Pairo's neck. The other man just brought him closer in a one-armed embrace.

"What's this?" Pairo suddenly asked, eyes focused on his back as he plucked something off it. A post-it note? "Call me. 555-640-1200. Qworof Wrilcylfe - Wrylcidfe - the hell is this name?"

"Oh," Kurapika said, as realization donned his face, "that must've been the guy in the coffee shop."

"Guy in the - Kurapika," Pairo said, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking him in the eye with a teasing seriousness, "are you cheating on me?"

Kurapika placed both his hands on Pairo's and pushed them away, shaking his head with a small smile.

"I forgot my wallet, so he offered to pay," Kurapika answered, simply.

"You think he thought you were a girl again?" Pairo asked.

The blonde shrugged, recalling all of the times people have hit on him because they thought he was a member of the opposite sex. Too many to count. Most didn't even seem to care when he corrected them. It took a chair to the stomach to wake them up.

"That name though," Pairo said, stifling a laugh. "Maybe it's just a joke."

Kurapika elbowed him in the stomach. "Don't make fun. Who knows, he might be haunted by that name. We're just adding to his grief." Besides, that man didn't look like the type to play such a cheap prank.

"Always so serious," Pairo chided, ruffling up his hair with a tender smile on his handsome face. "It's cute, though, so it's okay."

Kurapika frowned. He didn't like being called cute. He was an avenger, not a poodle. Speaking of avenging, that man was going to strike soon. He was sure of it. On the fourth of July next year. And he would be ready. Oh yes, he would make him suffer the same hell as his parents.

"Woah," Pairo said, and his sandwich was suddenly hijacked by one brunette jokester. "Slow down. You're gonna choke."

"Pairo! Kurapika!" a familiar voice greeted. Leorio walked over to them, Gon and Killua in tow. "What are ya doing here? I told you to go meet up with us at the usual place!"

"You don't have to yell, Leorio. My hearing is perfectly fine," Kurapika said.

"If it was so perfect then you wouldn't have made us wait so long!" Leorio continued yelling, and Kurapika's frown deepened. Their companions idled away from them. They knew better than to get into the crossfire of the verbal war between these two. The tension was almost palpable, almost like a storm cloud hanging above them, lightening striking down anyone who came too close to their makeshift arena.

"You're rather easy to ignore," Kurapika said, voice low and gentle, like the purr of a cat as it mocked its prey. "And if you had been listening to me yesterday, you'd realize that I had no intention of meeting you in that _place."_

"What do you have against my place? My place is a great place," Leorio fumed, eyes blazing, forehead contorted in anger.

"It's filthy, the food is bad, and there's a fire hazard at every turn," Kurapika ranted, distastefully. "And don't even get me started on the construction. It looks like the entire building is about to collapse. The amount of health code violations is innumerable, and the staff is terrible. I'm pretty sure one of them tried to skewer me with a knife once, for no reason, I was just sitting there."

"It - it has character," Leorio spluttered out angrily, eyes narrowed to slits as he pointed at him accusingly. "You just can't appreciate hard work!"

Kurapika scoffed, "I'm sorry I can't seem to see all that hard work under all that rubbish."

"Rubbish?" Leorio said, almost breathlessly, as if Kurapika's words themselves had given him a third-degree burn.

"Eh," Killua said, stepping into the war zone. Pairo and Gon both commended him for his bravery, clapping a bit as he walked up. "I'm with Kurapika on this one. That place is a total shithole."

"Watch your mouth, young man," Kurapika warned, without snatching his glare away from Leorio. Kurapika had always been the mom friend in their group. He kept everyone in line and worried non-stop. Like a mom.

"Oh yeah," Gon suddenly jumped into the conversation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple, blue pocket-sized object. "This guy came up to me and told me to give you this, Kurapika."

His wallet? But how?

And then his mind put together the puzzle pieces. That man in the coffee shop with the dashing smile and impeccable manners. The man pickpocketed him and then acted like his savior! He was a criminal!

Kurapika almost frantically took the wallet and started checking to make sure everything was still there. Credit card. Check. Campus ID. Check. Money. Che -wait. He was missing ten dollars. The exact amount that man had given the cashier.

He'd been played like a fiddle and kind of liked it! That man was the devil and he was going to make him pay for his obstruction of justice!

Another post-it note?

Kurapika ripped it out, anger practically seeping from every pore, oozing out of him like some deadly aura. He did not fare well with criminals. One killed his family. Another had seemingly stolen his wallet, robbed him of ten dollars, paid for both their coffees, left him his number, and then returned his wallet. All in the span of two hours.

 _I like your eyes. Call me._

He crumpled up the note and tossed it behind him, not caring where it landed or who it hit.

Maybe he could call him over for a date with his fist?

"Kurapika, you've got a scary face on again." Pairo tapped him on the forehead, earning a heated glare from Kurapika. For a second, the blonde felt a fiery passion to break the finger that dared touch his forehead, but then the anger dissipated and his anger issues were reined in again.

"Sorry," he muttered, still fuming on the inside. Deep, deep inside.

. . .

October 5th, XX21 : Age 20 : Some Rich Person's Street

It was dark now. The moon hung low in the sky, silently watching over a lone stranger on the street. The autumn breeze ran playfully through his shoulder-length blond hair, which was usually a warm honey color but in the rays of the moonlight it took on a colder platinum shade. The man was suddenly reminded of his days as a male, sometimes female, model, and his mood took another dip in the pools of general discontent. Lovely.

He heaved another sigh. At least he was alone. His friends had always been exceedingly clingy. Killua was okay, but Gon and Leorio were almost unbearable. He had met them in the orphanage, Gon's aunt was a friend of Senritsu and Leorio had been another fellow orphan. Kurapika had immediately butted heads with Leorio, and Senritsu had figured it was good progress since before then he'd been rather reserved. Gon, on the other hand, had immediately earned another mother. Killua and Gon had met years later when the spiky-haired boy got into trouble with some boys from school. They'd been attached at the hip ever since. Other than that little family incident where Killua was forced to go home. He eventually flicked them off and entered the same college as Gon and the rest, far, far away from his insane family. And that was just the way Gon liked it.

The blonde suddenly whipped his head around, sure he'd seen something on the roof of the adjacent house. Sure enough, a young man seemed to be checking his phone there, sitting with his legs over the edge. He looked to be blonde, was tall, and wore casual clothes, but Kurapika somehow doubted he was just there because of the spectacular Wi-fi, and soon enough he was proven right.

From his spot behind a line of thick trees, our blonde criminology major watched the scene unfold. They were thieves, good ones too if the fact no one in the house seemed to notice them was anything to go by.

And so, Kurapika was faced with a difficult decision. Evidence first or phone call first? If he called first, they might get away and they'd have no way of finding them since the cameras were probably hacked into, if there even were any. A picture would be useful when trying to recognize them. But what if they caught him? How would they catch him? Would they even care? Shit, they're getting away. Alright, picture first, phone call second.

Kurapika lifted his phone, making sure to take caution as he did so. One press and thieves were forever captured in the little communication device.

Then, he dialed 911 because he sure as hell wasn't going to fight six ninja thieves on his own. Unfortunately, before the call was even picked up, it ended, and the phone was gingerly removed from his limp hands. A few seconds later, he was pulled into an embrace, or perhaps he fell into it. Kurapika felt himself get pulled to the ground and warm breath caress his ear.

"We meet again, Mr. Kurapika," a voice laughed, and he felt something like a needle slide out of his neck. "I really was hoping you'd call me, but this isn't half bad either."

 _Bastard. This tranquilizing agent better not have any side effects._

And with that thought, Kurapika faded into darkness, and his journey began.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **A/N: I hope you liked it. This AU was actually originally on AO3, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to bring it over here. BTW, this is gonna be a Chrollo/Kurapika/Pairo fic. Because KuraPairo deserves some love too, and Leorio is overused. Kidding, Leorio is BAE. KuroKura is the main focus in this story, though, because LeoPika is too easy and 'enemies to friends to lovers' is my guilty pleasure. I mean, what's cuter than a villain with a crush? Whatever. No regrets! KuroKura is my OTP. This is gonna be awesome. College AUs FTW! Please review, favorite, and follow if you would be so kind.**

 **Question of the Day: What is your favorite and least favorite Hunter x Hunter pairing.**


	2. Blackmail

**Rise from the Ashes:**

 **Chapter II:**

 **Blackmail**

October 5th, XX21 : Age 20 : In the Spider's lair

Later that night, he woke up to hushed voices outside of the room he currently occupied and a dimmed ceiling of caramel. The mattress beneath him creaked as he shifted slightly towards the voices, and then all movement seized as he held his breath, waiting for their reaction.

"What do we do with him?" a gruff voice asked. Kurapika assumed that he was the 'him' they were speaking off. The pretty blond was understandably interested in the consensus of this conversation. After all, he was a reasonably attractive young man with a genius-level intellect. The world couldn't quite afford to lose him yet. And more importantly, there were villains still at large that he needed to chain down in hell.

"I don't know, Nobu," another voice mocked, annoyed. "Maybe we should do as Danchou said and wait for him to come back."

"Yeah, but what if he wakes up?" So, they hadn't noticed. Could he move? Yes. His movements might be a little jagged and disoriented, but he should be okay in the stealth department. His eyes darted around the room. It was surprisingly well furnished, with a mahogany desk and comfortable-looking swivel chair in one corner. The bed he currently rested on was absolutely heavenly compared to the one in his dorm. Kind of like a cloud compared to the cold, hard ground. He felt warm and safe and ready to fall back into an easy slumber. But no. He had to get out of here. The bay window would lead him to believe they were in a deciduous forest. There were no woods surrounding their city. How far had they taken him? It didn't matter. Well, it did, but not right now.

His phone. Did he have his phone?

As quietly as he could, he checked his pockets. Then, he remembered that that man had taken it from him. Pick-pocketed twice and then kidnapped. What a day! He knew he should've just gone back to the dorm. Skipped class. Not gotten out of bed at all?

"What's there to think about anyway?" Nobunaga continued. "We get rid of him just like we always do when someone catches us."

Ah, shit. They were thieves _and_ murderers? Couldn't they be some kind of Robin Hoods who let you go after giving you some treasure, or whatever it was Robin Hood did? Did he kill people too? Kurapika had never liked that one. Mostly because it glorified a thief.

Great, now his thoughts were becoming hysterical. He needed to calm down. To think.

He could run away right now. Jump through the window and hope the forest wasn't too big. Whatever the case, he had to get out before they noticed he was awake, and definitely before that man - Danchou, was it? - came back.

"Yo, Danchou!" the man said, happily, sounding much like a child greeting its mother. "Yeah, he's still asleep. No, we haven't done anything to him. Yeah. Yeah. Uh-huh. Wait, seriously?! Okay, I guess."

"What did he say?"

Yes, yes, what did he say? Spit it out already, so he could plan accordingly.

"He said he'll be here in ten minutes."

Okay. He could work with that.

"But to give him another dose before he gets back."

He couldn't work with that.

"I'll get the tranquilizer."

Shit. He had to go _now._

So, with one surprisingly swift motion, the blond quietly slipped to the window and jumped out of it. Straight onto the tree branch right outside.

 _Dear Grandfather (may you rest in peace),_

 _Thank you for teaching me those 'Tarzan' moves. I will never ridicule them again._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Your Beloved Grandson (I swear I'm getting to the avenging part)_

A few seconds after he'd gotten out of sight, he heard a monstrous, "Shit!" come from the inside. That Nobunaga fellow without a doubt.

He set off through the forest, running as fast and far as his legs could take him, taking care to make sure his movements were random and unpredictable. How long could he keep going? How long would it take for them to find him? Did they even need to go into the forest? Were there people on the outskirts already waiting for him?

He decided it didn't matter. Right now he had to stay alive as long as possible.

How big was this forest? Were there paths? Would they try the paths first?

His foot caught on something, tripping him. He got up, brushing himself off and ignoring the pain in his hands.

Were they really going to kill him? Torture him? What did they mean by getting rid of someone? Whatever it was, it didn't sound too appealing.

"I must say, you're good at running away."

Kurapika whirled around to see a man, half-obscured by shadows. He recognized him. It was that Quwrof fellow. He knew he'd sounded familiar. So, that man was a part of these thieves? Was he their leader, perhaps? He certainly had a sort of authority about him. Something in the persistent ghost of a smile that made you want to listen to whatever made it come about. Something in his obsidian eyes that made you want to solve this mystery of a man. His dark hair in the wind and pale skin glowing in the moonlight making him look almost like an apparition. A good-looking apparition.

Damn. This was no time for poetry! No matter how attractive the man was! He probably killed people. He was definitely a thief. And he definitely took advantage of his frantic, sleep-deprived state earlier today. He might have an amazing body, but he was dead inside!

Kurapika jumped up onto a tree branch. The man whistled.

"A regular man of the woods, aren't you?" he commented from below.

He didn't listen, desperate to get us far away from the vampire-y man as possible. One foot after another, like climbing really steep steps. And then, he'd go from there. There was no way he'd catch him in the dark. The trees were too thick, the moon's light too dim.

Just as he turned to jump onto the next branch. He nearly fell off when he saw what was waiting for him on the other side.

"Unfortunately for you, so am I," the man smiled, the corners of his mouth turned up in a harmless, friendly manner. He sat there casually, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. He looked so . . . so . . . unlike a murdering thief.

 _You catch more flies with honey than vinegar._

Well, he wasn't a fly. Though, the man in front of him strangely reminded him of a spider. Kurapika had never liked spiders.

"Don't run," the man said, unhelpfully. "You'll just tire yourself out. After all, I'm not here to bring you back."

Kurapika almost snapped at him. As if he was going to believe that.

The blond jumped up and took hold of another branch, climbing higher. The man below him suddenly appeared above.

"I have a proposition," he continued. Kurapika glared and fell back to land on another branch. He felt a presence behind him. He turned on his heel to face the man once more. He gazed down at the forest floor. It was only a few feet below now, he could jump down.

He let himself fall into a squat before taking off again. The man followed.

"You're not very good at listening, are you?" he asked, catching up to him without breaking a sweat. Kurapika grimaced. He was the second best runner in school, behind only Killua. What was this guy?

"I'm fine, actually," Kurapika replied, cursing himself for replying to the man. "Just not when it comes to kidnapping thieves."

"Would it help if I apologized?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. You look really nice tonight." The man didn't even seem out of breath. And now he was trying to flirt? Seriously, what was he?

"What?!"

"You look good in moonlight. Not that you don't look nice in sunlight. I've just always preferred moonlight. How about you?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

Kurapika tried to bite his tongue to stop from replying, but it was rather difficult. The man somehow made you want to talk to him.

"Sunlight."

"Because you're so bright and cheerful?" Was that sarcasm he detected?

"No." Because it was dark outside when they died. Man, his lungs were burning. How long were they going to -

He tripped. He tripped on a frickin' tree root. A tree root! His ankle hurt. Was it sprained? Oh God! Pairo was going to freak out.

While he was inspecting his ankle and his mind was slowly running towards the threshold of a panic attack, the man kneeled down beside him, looking slightly less cheerful. In fact, he looked almost worried.

"Look, sweetie," he started, placing his thumb and index finger on his ankle, appraising the damage. Kurapika's mind came to a stop on just one word.

Sweetie?

"I'd love to chase you until dawn hits, but I've got work to do so you're going to have to listen to me," he said, fingers disappearing from his possibly injured joint. "You're fine, by the way. Get up."

Kurapika almost pouted, but decided against it and stood up. He was clearly at a disadvantage here.

"Alright, what do you want?" Kurapika asked.

"I'll let you go, and you never speak of our encounter again," he offered. "You get back to your life of perpetual boredom."

"I'm not bored!"

"And I get back to stealing from the rich."

"Stop making it sound so normal!"

"And everyone lives happily ever after."

"Except for the people you keep stealing from."

"Yes! Except for them!" He smiled like a teacher would when their favorite student finally got a certain concept right.

Kurapika sighed, dipping his head as he contemplated the implications of accepting. He was planning on becoming a detective one day, for God's sake. How could he just let a possibly wanted criminal off the hook for good just to gain his freedom and possibly lengthen his lifespan?

But he was a self-preserving prick deep down inside, so unless it was to kill that other prick who killed his family, he wasn't dying just yet.

Still.

"What if I refuse?" he asked because he had to know at least.

"Then, I'll let my less civilized comrades deal with you. Feitan, in particular, starts by peeling off your fingernails first. He makes it excruciatingly long, though it also happens to be extremely effective."

His fingers suddenly stung a bit. Strange.

"How do you know I won't lie to you?" he asked.

"Oh, I might stalk you for a while. Don't worry though, it'll only be for a little while," the man assured. He was smiling again as if he hadn't just told him one of his partners in crime liked to torture people for fun.

"Stalk?"

"Don't worry," he said, trying to wave away whatever worries he might have. "You won't even know I'm there. Unless, you want me to be there, in which case, just call my name."

"Your name?"

"Chrollo. Chrollo Lucilfer." How fitting.

"I thought it was Quwrof Wrillcyfur," he said, knowing that he had pronounced it wrong. "Are you Welsh, by any chance."

"I'm Italian, technically." Was he going along with it? Kurapika had to admit the man had charisma. "On my mother's side. Though, I never actually knew her. I found out through the internet. My father was from London apparently."

"I did not need to know that."

"Eh, wouldn't you like to know more about your stalker?" the man asked, innocently, eyes wide with mocking curiosity. Kurapika rolled his eyes away from the dashing grin.

"Not particularly," Kurapika said, eyes glaring at the hand on his shoulder. When had that gotten there? "Mind letting me go now?"

"Yes, but I suppose that doesn't really matter," the criminal said, releasing him. Kurapika promptly started walking away from him. "Will you agree to my proposal?"

His steps halted, and his eyes studied the darkened falling leaves of orange and yellow. He bit his lip in deliberation.

"Yes."

He had failed as an aspiring detective, a defender of justice, but hey, at least he got to live?

October 5th, XX21 : Age 20 : In front of Kurapika's Residence Hall

"So, this is your home?" the thief asked, eyes darting as he memorized the place. At least, Kurapika suspected he was memorizing it.

"Yes," he said, removing himself from the ridiculously expensive car. Sleek, black, probably stolen. The poor blond felt uncomfortable just looking at.

Chrollo started getting out of the car as well, fitting in well with his expensive suit and weird earrings. Just another privileged rich college student.

"What are you doing?" Kurapika asked, voice slightly condescending as the man walked past him and towards the front doors.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, "I'm walking you to your door. I can't let a dashing young man like yourself walk through such dangerous halls by yourself."

"I've walked through them plenty of times before, trust me," Kurapika answered, copying the man's carefree tone.

"I also wanna see where you live."

He wasn't going to get a wink of sleep tonight, was he?

. . .

October 6th, XX21 : Age 20 : Dorm Room

He slept surprisingly well that night, well, morning. Probably from all that running. A few hours later, he woke up, feeling quite comfortable on a Saturday morning. No classes, no stress, just studying. Oh, he had that date with Pairo too.

He smiled. Today was gonna be a great day.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" Someone pulled open the curtains, letting the sunlight stream in. Kurapika groaned. The good thing about Saturdays was that one could laze around as long as they wanted. Who had the audacity to take that away from him?

He was suddenly rolled over onto his back. A pale face loomed over him, dark hair brushed his face. A grin tugged at the corner of the criminal's face.

Kurapika sat up, rigid and stiff. "How did you get in?"

Chrollo raised an eyebrow at that comment.

"Right, thief." Flimsy locks plus thief equals breaking and entering.

Kurapika yawned, pushing some blonde hair out of his eyes, only to have something shoved in his mouth.

"Pancakes. Chew. Swallow. Tell me what you think," the man ordered, eyes wavering in anticipation.

Kurapika savored the taste, letting the flat cake melt in his mouth. It was delicious. The texture fluffy and soaked in maple-syrup just long enough. For a second, Kurapika almost forgot this was a criminal feeding him.

"It's great. Now get out."

The man pouted. "You're so mean, Pikachu."

"What did you just call me?" he asked, tone icy, gaze frigid. The whole room seemed to drop a few degrees in temperature.

"Bringing up bad memories?"

"Don't you dare call me that again," Kurapika threatened, getting uncomfortably close to the other man. The blond smiled. "Understood?"

"Yessir, you won't be hearing any distasteful nicknames from me, Sir, no Sir," he joked, but the blonde simply sent him another glare, took the plate of pancakes and slowly backed up against the headboard. He couldn't just let good food go to waste. People were starving all around the world. It would be ungrateful to turn his nose up at food.

The man watched him eat, a wide smile on his face.

"I thought I told you to leave."

"I know. I ignored you. You're cute when you eat." He certainly didn't beat around the bush, did he? Perhaps, he should tell him about Pairo.

"I'm in a relationship with someone," the blond avenger said, monotonously, as he popped another piece of pancake in his mouth.

"Oh, what's her name?"

"It's a he, actually," Kurapika replied, completely enraptured in the fluffy fluffiness of the fluffy pancakes.

"Ah-ha! So, you do swing that way!" Chrollo said, far too excited for Kurapika's liking.

"And I'm dating someone," Kurapika enunciated.

"Oh, I can work with that," Chrollo said, waving the fact away. That didn't bode well for Kurapika.

"I'm done now." The blond held out the empty plate for him to take. Every last piece had disappeared in a matter of minutes. "So you can take your leave. I need to shower."

"I'll come with you!"

"No!" He slammed the door.

. . .

October 6th, XX21 : Age 20 : In The Courtyard

"Are you okay?" Pairo asked, as the blond wrapped his lithe arms around the taller man. A hand traveled up to his honey-colored hair, stroking it.

"I just . . . need to forget something terrible," Kurapika mumbled, burying his pretty, pale face in Pairo's black jacket. He smelled nice. Kurapika couldn't quite place it, but it felt safe somehow. Like if safe had a scent it would be Pairo.

"Bad morning, hmm? What happened?" he asked, kissing his temple.

"Cinnamon," the blonde finally realized.

"Cinam - oh, yeah, Cyrena made me help her bake another batch of snickerdoodles. Mostly me actually baking, and her looming over my shoulder to see how far along I was." Pairo cringed at the memory.

Kurapika laughed. "Was it that bad?"

"Worse."

Another laugh.

"C'mon," Pairo said, shifting to stand beside him, one arm circling his waist, "we should get going. What was that place you wanted to see?"

"Madame Simone's Bookshop," Kurapika answered.

"Again?"

"Yes, again. They just got the newest collection of nineteenth century classics. Crime & Punishment, The Count of Monte Cristo, Anna Karenina, the Tale of Two Cities, Les Miserables, Hunchback of Notre Dame. But most of all: All of Jane Austen's and Oscar Wilde's works. Every! Single! One!"

"Don't you own all of those already?" Pairo asked, smiling at the blond's enthusiasm as he pulled him to the bookstore.

"But not in this edition!"

"And who's going to pay for all that?" Ah, the dreaded question.

"So, I might have to cut my wishlist down a bit," Kurapika said, running a hand through his hair as he often did when he realized how carried away he'd gotten.

Pairo smirked. "Just a little."

The two of them spent hours in Madame Simone's Bookshop. Madame Simone herself knew them well and offered a lower price for the books Kurapika planned on getting. The blond had initially refused, but the woman was a tough nut to crack. She dug her heels in on that one, and in the end, Kurapika got at least half the books he'd wanted. Half because even with the lowered price, if he'd gotten any more, both Pairo and he would be bankrupt. And they liked being able to afford food.

Of course, through all those hours, Kurapika felt eyes on him. Black, bright eyes that followed him everywhere and made it hard to focus on the books. Something told him the owner wasn't simply making sure he didn't tell anyone about his little encounter with his band of thieves. The guy was clearly checking him out. He hardly interacted with him though, save for a few comments on his choice of books when Pairo was elsewhere, ranging from "I didn't take you for a romantic" to "the third edition of this one is far better than the fifth. Don't waste your money."

In the end, his little comments proved to be rather helpful in deciding which books to take.

So, he was still a horrible person, just a horrible person with good taste in books.

"Ah," Pairo mumbled, as he gazed down at his phone. They were walking to their favorite coffee shop now, Kurapika having a sudden craving for a latte. "I have to go. Leorio says that Cyrena is trying to burn the apartment down again."

Kurapika stiffened at the word 'burn,' and Pairo looked down at him apologetically.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting to stop mentioning fire around you," he whispered, tightening the arm around his shoulders. "You okay?"

Kurapika nodded. "I'm fine." It was so long ago. He couldn't be afraid of fire forever, but every time he saw a flame, heard someone mention something burning, he froze and the cold fury bubbled back up. His throat would grow thick, and speaking would become a challenge.

And it was all that arsonist's doing.

"You go," Kurapika smiled, placing an encouraging hand on his. "I don't mind."

Pairo pursed his lips, reluctant to let him go, but then bent down to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"I'll see you later," he whispered in his ear.

"Okay."

The blond watched him leave and then allowed himself fall back on the bench behind him with a long sigh.

"It's been so long." And yet, he couldn't help but be happy that his rage hadn't faded.

It meant he still had the determination to utterly eradicate the targets of his fury. What he had worked since he was thirteen.

"You guys are pretty cute, I gotta say," the man sitting beside him on the wooden bench suddenly lost his grip of the upper half of his newspaper, letting it fold of its own accord before dropping it in his lap.

Kurapika nearly fell off the bench.

"Stop sneaking up on me like that!" he scolded, not even bothering to confirm who it was.

"Sneaking up? I've been here the whole time, you just didn't notice," Chrollo defended, sticking his nose in the air and placing a hand to his chest as if he was disgusted that one could throw such accusations at him.

"That is not the point," Kurapika replied, as he quickly regained his careful composure.

"Well," Chrollo said, looking up at the sky, "I suppose that just proves what an incredible stalker I am. I mean, I was right next to you, and still you didn't notice me."

"Perhaps, you just have a thin presence," Kurapika muttered, placing one elbow on the back of the bench and supporting his chin on his hand, still looking away from the man.

"Oh?" Chrollo uttered, voice just a tad deeper than usual. The man suddenly leaned in so the blond could practically feel his hot breath on his ear. It took every shred of his self-control not to shove his face away. "Would you like me to make myself more conspicuous."

Kurapika grimaced at his seductive tone and quickly pushed himself off the bench. "You really don't know when to give up."

The man shook his head, smiling charmingly all the while.

"I hope you learn," Kurapika said, coolly, shifting all his weight to one leg and placing a hand on his hip.

"Unlikely," Chrollo muttered, before leaning back on the bench and fixing him with a curious, quizzical look, "so, what's your thing with fire."

Kurapika froze again.

"That bad, hmmm?" Chrollo said, looking him up and down. "Well, I suppose it's not too important."

And somehow, someway Kurapika told him anyway. Because he wanted to tell someone at that moment. Heck, he needed to.

"Almost seven years ago," he started, voice thick with fury and grief and all the years of suffering that followed just one day, "I had been at the library at the time. It had already gotten dark when I heard about the fire. The firefighters had tried to put it out, but it was too strong. In the end, no one got out. Few weeks later, it was revealed to be an arsonist's doing."

They both sat in silence for a second, as if honoring Kurapika's friends and family who had burned in that building.

"My condolences," Chrollo said, getting up and walking past him, placing a passing hand on his shoulder. "It must've been difficult."

There was something off about his apology. Something far too understanding. Like he knew more than he was letting on, and was hiding it behind a facade of patronizing pity.

With a sudden purpose to his movements, Kurapika jumped in front of the taller man.

"Do you know who they are?" he asked, eyes wide with _something_. Something foreign. Excitement, perhaps. The type that chilled you to the bone and sent your blood boiling all at once. The feeling that your goal was getting impossibly closer.

"They?" Oh, he did. He knew them well, too.

"The arson. You know them, yes?" Kurapika asked, his accent showing in the midst of his enthusiasm. The man in front of him tried - and failed - to fend of the smile forcing its way onto his face.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Chrollo answered. "That accent. You're not a native speaker, are you? Let me guess, uh, French?"

"A village on the coast called Lukso, and you're trying to change the subject," Kurapika said, crossing his arms, ignoring the people who had to walk around them. The man in front of him finally swapped the careless visage for something more stoic. "You can't fool me. I know when people lie."

"A built-in psychic lie detector, perhaps?"

"Something like that. Where I'm from, we just call it talent." It was actually a family gift, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fascinating."

"I'm not a museum exhibit. Now, spill!"

"I am under no obligation to tell you anything, blondie," the man said, and tried to move around him. Kurapika simply followed him, blocking his path each time. Was it childish? Yes, but Kurapika thought he could let himself slip up just this once.

"And I am no longer under any obligation to keep your little secret. You might have an advantage over that forest. This city is _my_ territory," the blond snapped, eyes almost glowing with determination. He was not letting this chance pass by, dammit! He'd get him to agree even if it took weeks. Months. Years.

Chrollo stepped up to the blond almost menacingly, and lifted a hand to his cheek, his fingers mingling with his golden tresses. Kurapika stared back, undaunted.

"You forget yourself, little one," he whispered, almost lovingly. An act to fool the passers-by, no doubt. His fingers clutched the hair they were tangled in and pulled just enough to send small bouts of pain in an attempt to sway him. Kurapika stood still, not even wincing in pain. Staring at the other man with adamant coffee eyes, prodding the man's mind into submission.

"Am I? This is just business, after all. The way I see it, we both have something the other wants. My complete silence for some tiny bits of information," Kurapika said, voice steady and equally friendly despite the pain in his skull.

"I could silence you right now," the man threatened, almost losing that calming timbre.

Kurapika gave a light laugh, and he praised himself for his amazing acting abilities. A dash of psychotic laughter was just what he needed to get his chess pieces in position. "Trust me, this is one dead man you'll never be able to silence."

Obsidian eyes scanned his face, probably for signs of bluffing. Kurapika smirked inwardly. He never bluffed. That just wasn't his style.

"Victoria and Vlad Volkov," Chrollo finally whispered. "They're twins. Used to be one of us before I kicked them out."

"Why'd you kick them out?"

"Don't interrupt me," Chrollo chided. "I kicked them out because they had distasteful methods. I'm a thief, not an animal. Anyway, they're both pyromaniacs. By age ten, they'd already burned down half their village."

"And no one has ever caught them?" Kurapika asked a bit too loudly if Chrollo's inwardly-scolding expression was anything to go by.

"They're never in the area when the fire occurs," Chrollo explained, his voice still barely above a whisper. "Only the underworld really knows about them, and even that's just a handful of people. Either way, you'll do well to forget about whatever schemes you're plotting against them."

"And why would I do that?" Kurapika scoffed as the man finally slid past him, the hand gripping his hair disappearing.

Chrollo turned back oh-so-dramatically, smiled, and said, "because the Volkovs don't leave survivors."

Well.

Shit.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **A/N: What will happen? Chrollo refuses to help Kurapika. Kurapika doesn't show any signs of giving up. KuraPairo is being adorable and it makes me feel bad that I might have to break them apart eventually. Anyway, I've got two more chapters written for this fic. They're just waiting to be edited. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review, follow, and favorite this story! Every little bit counts : ). Oh, and I hope none of you mind me using Chrollo instead of Kuroro. I see Kuroro used more often by the fandom, but the manga and anime call him Chrollo. Meh. They're both better than Quwrof. WTF are those names, Togashi?**


	3. Routine

**Rise From The Ashes:**

 **Chapter III:**

 **A Routine**

October 13th, XX21 : Age 20 : Dorm room

"Good morning, sunshine!" Chrollo said, shoving a forkful of pancake in his mouth. He swallowed the delicious breakfast food as usual. It was made perfectly, of course. Kurapika just wished he'd stop forcing it down his throat just as he was waking up.

"Pumpkin spice?"

Chrollo nodded, happily. "I make these every year for breakfast during the colder months. Also got around to finally buying a few batches . . . what?"

"You sound like a mom," Kurapika snickered.

"I'll take that as a compliment, despite knowing you meant it as an insult."

"Spoken like a true gentleman."

A knock on the door brought them both out of a surprisingly comfortable silence. Kurapika grabbed the plate of pancakes and pushed Chrollo off the bed, far from the prying eyes on the other side of the door. He then placed the flat cakes on the table.

"Kurapika," Pairo called, sounding a bit concerned even with his muffled voice, "what was that noise?"

Kurapika rushed to the door, opening it just a tad to show that he was fine. "You caught me off guard," he said, awkwardly, pushing a lock of golden hair behind his ear. "I, ahem, might've fallen out of bed."

"You're adorable," Pairo chuckled, walking in despite Kurapika's horrified expression. Telling him to stay out would be suspicious. Pairo suddenly turned back to him and the worry returned. "Are you alright?"

Kurapika blinked rapidly at the question. His mind slowly processed it, and a small, reassuring smile spread across his face as a soft, "yes" left his lips. It seemed to be enough for Pairo, whose face instantly softened.

And then Kurapika saw him. Chrollo lay there on his stomach with his chin on his hands, and his head supported by his elbows. A large grin, like that of a spectator watching a romance unfurl right before him, was plastered on his face, and Kurapika suddenly felt the urge to punch his unfairly gorgeous face.

"What are you looking at?" Pairo asked, his head twisting around to look behind him. The blonde suddenly grabbed his chin, and, in a moment of panic, his lips pressed to Pairo's.

What was he doing? He was practically taking advantage of someone's affections! That wasn't like him. Well . . . as long as it worked. He was protecting everyone from further confusion.

His eyes flicked to Chrollo, as Pairo's arms circled around his waist. Why wasn't he moving? He was distracting Pairo so he could get out of here. What an ungrateful man.

"Kura -"

His lips fell back on Pairo's, his hand moving to clutch his hair and one of them let out a low, appreciative hum as their tongues touched. Kurapika gripped his red sweater, smiling into the kiss, before moving to nuzzle into his neck. The taller man's hold on him tightened. Kurapika took this opportunity to give Chrollo his patented death glare.

"Get out," he mouthed. Chrollo pouted, but then got up and silently made his way out of the room. If Kurapika hadn't been watching him like a hawk, he wouldn't have even known he was there in the first place. As expected of a thief.

The blonde buried his face in the crook of Pairo's neck and inhaled. He smelled like lemon zest today, mixed in with the smell of the Pumpkin Spice pancakes Chrollo brought and the autumn breeze streaming in from the outside.

The pancakes!

But that was fine. It wasn't like Pairo would see them and instantly think he was cheating on him. Right? Right. This was Pairo. Sweet, understanding, always-there-when-you-needed-him Pairo.

But just in case.

"Do you mind waiting outside while I get ready?" Kurapika asked. Pairo tilted his head to the side in askance but said no more. Kurapika collapsed on the bed as soon as the door shut close.

This was insane. It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. Chrollo and he were just business partners, really. Chrollo brought him information on the arsonist twins, and he kept quiet about his status as a wanted thief. That was all. So, Chrollo hit on him shamelessly and forced meals down his throat like some kind of cheesy lover. Kurapika never responded to his advances with anything but rejection. Which meant he really hadn't done anything wrong. So, why did he feel like he had?

Kurapika shook his head of the thoughts and slipped out of his pajamas. He took a cold shower to clear his head. Then, he put on some clothes fit for a day out in town: jeans, a grey shirt, and red jacket. Simple enough. Just how he liked it.

"Alright, I'm read-"

His eyes widened a fraction, his jaw clenched, his eye twitched, and his hands turned into fists.

What the hell?

"And then," Pairo continued talking, as if he hadn't noticed Kurapika had come out, "Kurapika told him to, and I quote, 'take his uncouth behavior elsewhere before someone pummeled his face in.' And that was how Kurapika introduced me to Leorio."

Both men laughed at Pairo's retelling, Chrollo looking incredibly innocent in his black attire.

Kurapika cleared his throat, and Pairo swiveled around to face him.

"Kurapika!" Pairo said, mirth still lacing his voice and glittering in his glassy, brown eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you also knew Chrollo?"

"I - wait, you know him too?" Kurapika asked, not bothering to hide the shock in his voice.

Pairo nodded, grinning. "Yeah, we were in the same class last year and were just catching up. How'd you two meet?"

Kurapika's face fell into a forced smile, as his eyes bore dangerously into Chrollo's, who simply smiled back, smugly.

"In a coffee shop," the dashing, dark-haired man answered for him, "a few weeks ago, in fact. You could say we instantly hit it off. Eh, Kurapika?"

He was doing this on purpose. Revenge? Kurapika hadn't taken him for the vengeful type. No, Chrollo was clearly just trying to have some fun with him. Well, two could play at that game.

"Yes, of course," he replied, "you remember the man I told you about, Pairo? The one who paid for my coffee a few days ago?"

"The one who stole your wallet and then gave it back?"

Kurapika nodded.

Pairo's lips tilted up and a light laugh escaped them. "That sounds like him. He always used to play stunts like that. I think this would be the first time he hit on someone, though."

The previously cheerful man turned back to Chrollo, his face now neutral. And then he leaned in, eyes wide and threatening.

"I'll have to warn you, though. I don't really take kindly to people hitting on Kurapika and taking it too far. Especially, people like you. So, don't take it too far, okay?"

Chrollo raised his hands in a placating manner, though he didn't seem ready to give up just yet. "Understood. He's all yours."

Pairo's cheerful disposition returned. "Oh good. I know Kurapika gets annoyed by the persistent ones. No hard feelings, right?"

"Of course not."

Pairo smiled again, and then intertwined his fingers with Kurapika's. The blonde sent Chrollo one smug smile before turning to follow Pairo. The taller brunette didn't get angered easily, but in some cases, most involved with defending Kurapika's honor, his anger was easily stoked. Chrollo wouldn't be able to simply sneak in coarse remarks around Pairo and pass them off as casual, whispered conversation. The man would be watching him like a hawk. One wrong move and, well, Kurapika wasn't really sure what Pairo did to the people who overstepped their boundaries, but it was probably something bad.

Everything was going according to plan.

. . .

October 13th, XX21 : Age 20 : The Library

It was foolish of him to assume something as insignificant as Pairo being overly protective would be enough to fend of Chrollo.

"Your boyfriend is surprisingly protective," Chrollo remarked, taking a seat in front of him.

Kurapika ignored him, marking down another solution to the formula on his paper. He even placed a hand on his forehead to block him from his vision. What were his efforts met with? More questions!

The man continued jabbering, "why did you try to hide me from him? Surely, he would've understood?"

The tip of his pencil broke off. What a waste of perfectly good lead. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

"Do you want more information on the twins, or not?"

He fell into the trap. Nevermind that it was obvious. Nevermind that he could've easily sidestepped.

"I lost everyone I cared about in a fire. I don't plan to lose anyone else, to a fire or to a simple misunderstanding."

"You're scared."

"And can you blame me?"

"No."

"Good. Now shut up. I'm trying to focus," Kurapika snapped, eyes returning to the textbook in front of him.

"Keeping secrets isn't a very good way to go about protecting them, though," Chrollo continued despite Kurapika quite clearly telling him to shut up. Insubordinate little . . . whatever he was. Criminal didn't sound quite right. Neither did thief. Kurapika didn't know much else about him. He wasn't sure he wanted to know more. What was . . . it doing lecturing him on his methods of protecting his loved ones? He was a thief.

 _That doesn't mean he's emotionally illiterate._

Shut up, brain.

"I can practically see your inner conflict now," Chrollo chuckled, placing his chin on a partly closed hand.

"Shut up, Chrollo."

Silence.

"What?"

"That's probably the first time you said my name without mocking me. I'm getting teary-eyed."

More silence.

"I still hate you."

"I would expect nothing less from the lord of grudges."

His lips quirked up at the terrible joke. His brain, the same one that had tried to humanize the criminal, started to promptly berate him for enjoying the presence of said criminal. How he hadn't gone insane yet was a mystery to everyone, including Kurapika himself.

"The information?" Kurapika prodded, pulling up all his walls again. One should never let down their guard around a criminal, especially one like Chrollo.

Chrollo sighed, steepling his fingers and placing his elbows on the wooden study table. "They spend about a month on each building to make sure no one can leave."

"Wait," Kurapika said, both hands falling to lie flat on the table, "they actually go into the buildings? How are they never found out?"

"Disguises, of course. They're masters at disguise. Both are skilled plastic surgeons as well."

They just kept getting worst.

"All just to burn things?"

"It's their passion."

Kurapika averted his eyes, fingers coming up to brush away his blonde hair.

"Having second thoughts?"

"No. I'm reassessing my plans."

Another pause. The silence was grating.

"What now?"

"I'm not sure whether to admire your attempts to avenge them or think you are a fool for even trying."

. . .

October 13th, XX21 : Age 20 : Outside the Dorm

"About what you said," Kurapika started, "about them not leaving any survivors. How would they find out about me?"

Chrollo had to actually consider that for a while. "Probably through your prying. I'd give you a few months at best before they come for you."

Kurapika couldn't help but smile. They would come to him. He'd be waiting.

The dark-haired man gave him a strange look, before heaving a sigh, "you're gonna get yourself soon. Let me just say that I really did enjoy your company for what it was. Even if it was disappointing that you never let down your walls and let me in."

"I'm not dead yet."

"You will be soon. Such a shame too. You never even got to graduate," he continued somberly, turning away and walking to his car.

"I'm not going to die!"

"That's what the all say. Enjoy your last months."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. The man was already planning his funeral, and that speech sounded suspiciously like a eulogy.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **A/N: Bonding is a beautiful thing. Pairo is surprisingly protective. Chrollo keeps doing whatever he wants. Impulsive little shit. Kurapika continues to freak out endlessly on the inside while remaining cool and calm on the outside. Poor man.**

 **Question of the Day: Who is your favorite character in this story so far?**


	4. In Which Kurapika is Dead To The World

**Rise From The Ashes:**

 **Chapter IV:**

 **In Which Kurapika Is Dead To The World**

October 30th, XX21 : Age 20 : Under the huge oak tree in the courtyard

"C'mon, Kurapika. It's not that bad," Pairo reassured for the umpteenth time, rubbing the blond's back as a sign of comfort. Kurapika was currently curled up by Pairo's side, face blank and his arms wrapped around the other man.

The blond grunted noncommittally. "Easy for you to say."

"So, you got a B on the last test. It's because you were tired. You almost fell asleep in Econ that day. Your grade isn't as perfect as usual because you're pushing yourself too far . . . are you okay?"

Kurapika had let himself fall to the ground, coiled up into a fetal position on the grassy carpet. "Just let me die here."

The blond could practically hear Pairo's eyes rolling in their sockets. He clearly didn't see what this meant to him.

A hand reached out for his shoulder, and Kurapika made no move to slap it away.

"Kura," he called, softly, beckoning him to jump out of his stupor. "I know academics are important to you, but you can't be so afraid of faltering every now and then. Failure is healthy in moderation."

Kurapika didn't respond. Mostly because deep down he knew Pairo was right.

The other man's phone rang.

Pairo sighed, before placing a kiss on his boyfriend's cheek. "I'll see you soon, Kura. How about I bring you some of those chocolates you like so much. That'll cheer you up."

"I suppose," Kurapika muttered, getting up and wrapping his arms around the brunet. "You should probably go. I wouldn't want you to be late because of me."

Pairo chuckled, running a hand through his honey-colored hair, "trying to get rid of me already? Alright, take a nap or something. You look terrible."

And with that, the man got up and walked away.

Once Kurapika was sure there was no way Pairo could still be able to see him, he turned to glare at the tree, or rather, at the person behind it.

"You can come out now. He's gone."

The man sat down beside him. "Is there a reason you're so afraid of failing to reach perfection?"

Kurapika played with the blades of grass beside him. "Not really. I'm just . . . used to being perfect."

"How boring," Chrollo commented. "What's life without the lows. It's a simple, straight line. You really need to loosen up."

Kurapika grimaced, sending him one irritated glare.

"Or not. Well, since you'll be dying within the confines of the next two to three months, I suppose the least I can do is let you live your life the way you wish to live it," Chrollo said, resigned to Kurapika's fate.

"For the last time, I'm not going to die unless it means taking them with me!" Kurapika said, exasperated.

Chrollo gave him a strange look. Was it pity? "You're really so willing to throw your life away to get your revenge?"

"It's justice," Kurapika murmured, pushing his knees up to his chest and placing his chin on them.

"You have an odd perception of justice," Chrollo replied. "Let me warn you, though. Killing someone is a far cry from considering it."

"I thought you didn't kill people," Kurapika snapped. So, he was in the presence of a murderer and a thief? Bloody hell, why hadn't he called the police yet? Or had someone else call them? It wasn't like Chrollo was continuously looking over his shoulder. As an aspiring detective, catching a criminal mastermind like him was the right thing to do. And yet, he couldn't seem to do it.

Eh, it was probably because he needed Chrollo's help catching a bigger fish.

Chrollo took a while to answer him, as if weighing his words. "Well, not anymore. But, there were times when I couldn't seem to see any other option. I grew up in a slum, you see. Killing was part of the daily routine. It really made human lives look insignificant."

"And you stopped because . . ." It couldn't be a sudden revelation that lives were actually worth something.

Chrollo shrugged. "It became too much of a bother. Pulling off an elaborate heist without anyone knowing is more satisfying."

"Oh. Should we really be talking about this in a public place?"

"Worried about me, Kurta?"

Kurapika scoffed, "not in the slightest, but withholding information is a punishable offense. You know that family you robbed is still looking for you guys. I don't want to be caught up in your web of crime."

"How cruel," Chrollo teased. "Here I thought we were starting to bond over our tragic pasts."

Kurapika turned away from him haughtily. "It's gonna take more than that to gain my sympathy."

"We shall see."

. . .

October 30th, XX21 : Age 20 : Restaurant of Killua's Choice

"Man, the food here is pricy!" Leorio complained, putting down the menu. "Couldn't we just go to McDonald's or something?"

"If you want to stuff your face with empty calories and heart problems, be my guest," Kurapika sighed. All of Leorio's complaining had already set of a stabbing pain in his brain.

Leorio nearly set off a string of expletives, but then he looked around them, eyes darting around the store. Kurapika smirked. There were kids here. If he let even the slightest hint of a curse word leave his lips, he'd have both Pairo and Kurapika on his back.

"Alright, fine," Leorio grumbled, burying his face in the menu, probably scanning to see what the cheapest food they served was.

Pairo sighed, "you're so mean when you're around him. Where's the man I fell in love with when Leorio is here?"

"On break." And it was called tough love. Sure, Leorio drove him mad and made him want to hit his stupid face over and over again, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be the first one to beat up whoever tried to get him down. Beat them verbally, of course. Kurapika was a pacifist for the most part. He had decided a long time ago that his karate lessons would only come into play when he met his family's murderer.

"Gon~!" a sly, lilting voice exclaimed, a bit too excitedly. The tone sent shivers down all their backs. They turned to see a man with bright, red hair standing above them. He wore casual clothes and, save for the odd-colored eyes and tattoos on his cheeks, he looked completely ordinary. "What luck! I was just looking for you."

The man sat down next to Gon, their shoulders touching and faces far too close together. Kurapika felt the urge to shove him away from the boy, but Killua beat him to it.

"What are you doing here, Hisoka?" Killua asked, voice on edge. He pulled Gon towards him, looking much like a bodyguard.

The man smiled, "I just wanted to have a chat with your blond friend."

It was Pairo's turn to glare, but Kurapika felt that this might be worth listening to.

"Talk about what?" he asked. "I have no time for idle chat."

"What a shame," Hisoka purred, leaning his chin on his hand. "I happen to love idle chat. You look absolutely radiant tonight, by the way. The lighting suits you."

Kurapika stared at him, unimpressed. Pairo looked like he was stuck between agreeing with him and pummeling his face into the ground. Leorio was still wondering what food to buy.

The red-haired clown of a man sighed, despondent, "why is it that all the good ones are taken? And all the good ones who aren't taken are always running away?"

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" Kurapika asked, impatiently.

Hisoka smirked. "Not here. Join me outside?"

With that, the man slid out of his seat on the leather couch and headed for the door. Kurapika got up to follow him, only to have a hand wrap around his slim wrist.

"Are you sure about this?" Pairo asked, concerned. "It's Hisoka."

Kurapika slipped his wrist of his grip and intertwined their fingers. He gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine."

"I hope so," he whispered, but finally let him go, albeit reluctantly.

The blond smiled one last time. "Make sure Leorio doesn't eat my food."

"Will do."

He walked out into the cold, shivering slightly as an autumn breeze collided with him. Why couldn't he be like Pairo, and be immune to the elements? No, his body for some reason decided he was either going to be really hot or really cold. No comfort for Kurapika.

"Alright, Hisoka," he said as he spotted the man at one of the wooden benches a little ways away from the restaurant. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I didn't drag you out here to talk about me. We're here to talk about you ~!" he said, cheerfully, clapping his hands. "Or rather, your new best friend, Lucilfer."

"I don't know any Lucifer, and I'm certainly not into that sort of thing."

"Not, Lucifer," Hisoka waved the notion away with one hand. Kurapika noticed his nails were painted a rather garish shade of glittery pink. "Lucilfer. Chrollo Lucilfer. Y'know, the man who seemingly can't help but follow you around everywhere, even though he keeps running away from the person who truly loves him."

" You're in love with Chrollo?" Kurapika asked, incredulously.

Hisoka pouted, "he never lets me call him by his first name! Tell me, what's your secret?"

"Secret?"

"It's probably because you're always pushing him away. Didn't think he'd fall for the type that's always in denial."

"Denial?!"

"Hmm, this may actually turn out to be quite fun," Hisoka said, mostly to himself.

"Fun?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head," Hisoka cooed, petting his golden crown lovingly. "I'm just talking to myself."

Kurapika rolled his eyes and slapped his hand away. "If that's all, I'll be heading-"

"Oh, but that's not all," Hisoka interrupted. "Tell me, did you know the people who killed your family were also a part of Chrollo's team?"

"Yes, and that he threw them out."

"Is that what he told you?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Well, I suppose it wasn't a complete lie, but did you ask him when he threw them out?" Hisoka asked.

No. He hadn't. Why hadn't he? The fact that he had come ever so slightly closer to his family's murderers had completely overshadowed the importance of Chrollo's status as their ex-leader.

"It was a mere three months after they burned your home to the ground," Hisoka revealed, probably relishing in whatever expression had made its home on his face. "Chrollo was still their leader when they killed your family."

. . .

November 1st, XX21 : Age 20 : On a random street

He really had waited too long. Perhaps, because he was worried Hisoka was telling the truth for once. Or, maybe, because Hisoka lied so often he had initially believed it to automatically be a lie. Whatever the case, he had waited too long to ask him to either verify or disprove Hisoka's words.

"Chrollo," he started, hating how wary his voice sounded, "when exactly did you kick the twins off the team?"

Chrollo, who was currently walking beside him and looked perfect as usual, sighed, "I was wondering when you'd finally come around and ask that. To be honest, I expected you to take a little longer. You keep surprising me."

"Answer the question."

"Hisoka was telling the truth."

Kurapika suddenly turned on him, eyes ablaze, not caring that they were in public. "You bas-"

"They went off on their own," Chrollo cut him off. "I had no part in them killing your family. I had stolen an heirloom of sorts from you a few weeks before. It set the twins off. In a way, I suppose I did inadvertently cause that fire."

Was that guilt he detected?

Kurapika's anger was doused. "So, you didn't plan the whole thing out?"

"No, of course not," Chrollo answered, surprise tinting his voice.

There goes the worst case scenario. This was rather mild compared to what Kurapika expected. Just another case of bad circumstances and psychopaths. On another note, something could possibly have been saved from the fire.

"So, that heirloom you took . . ." Kurapika started. He didn't need to finish.

"I sold it. No idea where it could be," Chrollo responded, almost immediately. Upon seeing Kurapika's slightly disappointed face, he seemed to reconsider. "But . . . I suppose I could dig into it if you want."

"Really?"

"But I don't offer my services for free," he sang.

Kurapika frowned, annoyed. "What do you want in return?"

Chrollo shrugged. "Dunno yet. I'll cash in the favor later."

Kurapika's hands clenched into fists and then loosened back to fall limp at his sides. He couldn't punch him in front of all these people on the streets.

"Fine," he grumbled.

"By the way, we're being followed," Chrollo informed, casually.

Kurapika almost looked over his shoulder, but Chrollo subtly beckoned him to keep his eyes on the road.

"Is it them?" he asked, quietly.

"Don't whisper. It looks suspicious," Chrollo advised. "They're taking their time because you don't know they're there yet. If you suddenly revealed that you did then they'd instantly spring into action."

"So, they're just going to follow me the entire time?"

"Presumably, until they catch you alone."

"And then?"

"They'll kill you."

Of course. Things were moving faster than he'd expected. He wondered how long he had before they struck.

 **. end of chapter .**


	5. Kurapika Stars In A Thriller

**Rise From The Ashes:**

 **Chapter V:**

 **Kurapika Stars In A Thriller**

November 7th, XX21 : Age 20 : Dining Hall

There was nothing like burgers for lunch to release all the tension building up within a twenty-year-old college student being stalked by two psychopathic twins planning to burn him alive. Except, maybe burgers for a lunch that were completely paid for by his boyfriend. Things were always more delicious when you got them for free.

"Feeling better?" Pairo asked, amused, leaning his chin on his palm with a small, fond smile on his face. Kurapika nodded, fervently. Only nodded, because his mouth was stuffed with food. "Glad I could help."

Leorio swallowed his own burger, paid for with his own money because he had no doting significant other to stick their neck out for him. "What's up with you, anyway? You've been acting weird."

"Hmmm," Kurapika hummed with faux thoughtfulness, and all his friends edged away in fear, "perhaps whatever you caught is contagious."

"Nevermind, you're the same!" Leorio yelled, before turning away in anger. To everyone's surprise, a light, laughing sound escaped the blond's throat.

"I'm glad you think so," Kurapika said, ignoring the three pairs of eyes staring him down. "And I appreciate the concern, but I'm really doing just fine."

A hand found its way to his forehead, and Kurapika sent the owner of said hand a puzzled expression.

"Doesn't look like you have a fever," Pairo mumbled. "Maybe we should take you back to your room just in case."

Kurapika backed away from his hand with a roll of his eyes and an upwards curve of his lips.

"Honestly, it's like you've never seen me be nice to Leorio before," he complained.

His friends all sat silently, probably trying to recall a time when Kurapika and Leorio actually got along.

"Well . . ."

"We never have," Gon said, sounding rather surprised at his own discovery. "You're always fighting."

"We are not," Kurapika insisted. "I mean, we've had a few rough patches but deep down we love each other."

"I don't love you," Leorio grumbled, only to be jabbed in the ribs by an inhumanly sharp elbow. "Love you. Best bros, ya know."

Kurapika nodded, approvingly. His phone buzzed suddenly, and he reached into the pocket of his jacket to dig it out.

 _they're behind you - CL_

His back went rigid, as he fought the urge to look back.

 _calm down. be aware of them, don't let them be aware of you - CL_

 _don't go anywhere alone - CL_

Kurapika glared at the screen. How incompetent did he think he was? Still irked, Kurapika punched out a reply.

 _I know that already. What about you?_

 _what about me?_

 _Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?_

What was he saying?! Keeping an eye on him? All he'd wanted this whole time was for Chrollo to leave him alone. This made it sound like he wanted him to . . . to stay.

Kurapika mentally slapped himself across his mental face. He was reading into his own words too much. Surely, it was just because deep down he knew Chrollo was his best bet against those two.

 _i'll be going away for a while. would you like me to stay?_

Kurapika could practically hear the suggestiveness in that statement.

 _You're getting ahead of yourself. I consider you a valuable ally, that's all._

 _you're no fun._

Kurapika rolled his eyes, but decided to ignore that comment.

"Kurapika?" Pairo's voice reached him.

He turned to the taller man questioningly.

"We're going to see that new D. Hunter movie, wanna come?"

He planned to decline, as he wasn't in any mood to watch anything, even if it was based on his favorite book series of all time. Not to mention the movie theater wasn't the best place to go to when running from two devious criminals. But then, he remembered Chrollo's message.

 _don't go anywhere alone._

"Of course, you know I've been looking forward to this," he finally responded.

"And dreading it, right?" Pairo finished, smiling that playful little smirk.

Kurapika shrugged. "I'll either love it immensely, hate it with a burning passion -"

"Or not give a damn at all," they said in unison.

"You guys kind of scare me sometimes," Leorio muttered. Killua seemed to agree.

"It's like you're one person," Gon commented, munching happily on his fries. "But it makes sense. You've been together even longer that Killua and I! Ever since middle school! I wonder if you'll even get married someday?"

Kurapika's eyes widened, and he almost immediately started choking on his drink. His partner simply laughed, easily.

"It might be sooner than you think," he said, smiling widely. At that, Kurapika whipped his head around to look at the other man.

"What?!" he choked out. Marriage was such a big commitment. No, he couldn't possibly. Well, maybe someday.

 _Buzz._

 _d'aww, you two really are adorable. too bad your time's running out - CL_

 _I'm not going to die._

 _really? the two evil pyromaniac twins would beg to differ_

 _Shut up._

 _then stop responding_

He got him there. Alright, no more responding. It wasn't like he couldn't bare to leave a message unanswered. Anyone who knew him for any amount of time would be able to contest that he was terrible at answering the phone.

"So, when are we going?" he finally asked, albeit a bit distractedly. No one answered, too busy gaping at him. He frowned a bit, confused. "What?"

"You're . . . texting," Pairo said in amazement. "On a consistent basis, too. Are you sure you're alright?"

"This is just business," Kurapika reassured, though he knew Pairo didn't need reassurance. He trusted him wholeheartedly.

It was Leorio who spoke next. "You're looking for a job? Don't you have a full-ride scholarship?"

"Some people go to work for the experience rather than the money, Leorio," Kurapika replied, placing the phone back in his jacket.

"He's fine," their three other companions replied, just as Leorio went off on a tangent about how disrespectful Kurapika was and how he should stop being such a condescending prick. Sometimes, they wondered if Kurapika always annoyed Leorio because he found it funny, but that wasn't the type of person Kurapika was. He didn't do things for such trivial reasons. He annoyed Leorio on purpose, because Leorio seemed to annoy him unconsciously. It was quite a strange dynamic.

"So, movie, what time?"

"We got tickets for the screening at seven," Pairo finally said. The blond agreed, saying he had nothing to do anyway, which wasn't true since he had been planning on studying some more. It couldn't be helped, he had to stick next to Pairo for the next few hours if he wanted to live.

. . .

November 7th, XX21 : Age 20 : Outside

Pairo ran a hand through Kurapika's golden hair again. The blond had managed to pass off his desire to stay with Pairo as his yearning to be by his side. He didn't need to know the truth. Kurapika didn't want to put him in any hypothetical danger.

"What brought this on, anyway?" Pairo asked.

"I just wanted to be with you," Kurapika answered, the lie slipping through his teeth easily. Pairo's grip on his shoulders tightened, and as the two men sank into a comfortable embrace, the evil twins trying to kill one of them were forgotten.

Kurapika's phone vibrated again, and he slipped it out and scanned the message.

 _i'm leaving now don't die until i get back - CL_

The blond didn't respond, the man was probably still watching him from afar anyway. Instead, Kurapika decided to place his head in the crook of Pairo's neck once more, ignoring the strange sense of loss in the absence of Chrollo. Pairo's shoulder made a surprisingly excellent pillow, and in the safety of his arms, he felt his guard drop and his eyes shut close.

Just for a few seconds, he told himself.

. . .

November 7th, XX21 : Age 20 : After D. Hunter Movie, Good Ol' Pairo's taking Kura home

"So, did you loath it as much as you feared?" Pairo teased, squeezing his hand. This set the blond off on an angry tangent about all the ways it failed as an addition to the original series.

"But other than that, it was alright."

Pairo chuckled, pulling him closer. "I guess that's as much of a compliment as they're gonna get from you."

"They could've gotten more if they just stuck to the source material. I mean, Don would never be so idiotic as to charge an actual Hellbell," Kurapika complained, complete with that critiquing voice and wide gestures.

"Yes, yes, and those jewel thieves were beaten too easily and his love interest was too one dimensional," Pairo recited. "But other than that, it was okay."

Kurapika smiled a bit sheepishly, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. "Yeah."

"We're here."

Kurapika gazed up at the building, its lights shining dimly onto the concrete. Home, at last. He could finally relax a bit.

Wait.

Who was to say they wouldn't break into his dorm? If Chrollo could do it, they probably could too. While he was sleeping, even. They could strike at any time.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Pairo started, releasing his hand. Kurapika gripped it again. The brunet looked at him questioningly.

His cheeks flushed, as he realized what he'd done. "Stay? Please."

Pairo tilted his head to the side in confusion, before nodding, a small curve of the lips gracing his handsome face. "Of course."

. . .

November 8th, XX21 : Age 20 : Kurapika's dorm

Our blonde criminology major lay buried in Pairo's bare chest, cheeks still a bit flushed. The other man's arms kept him warm. He breathed in his scent.

This was certainly not what he had been planning on doing when he asked Pairo to stay, but it wasn't like he was complaining. Sinking deeper into his arms, he felt himself drift off into sleep. And as he fell into the depths of a long slumber, it wasn't Pairo holding him anymore, but Chrollo. And in his sleep-deprived state, he didn't question it. He didn't question why the man at the core of all his problems was who he last thought of after he'd spent the night with who was supposed to be the love of his life.

As his limbs went limp, a name fled his lips one last time.

It wasn't Pairo's.

. . .

In the morning, Kurapika remembered nothing of his slip-up, and so, when he woke up to a fully-clothed Pairo sitting in his desk chair with the most conflicted expression he'd ever seen, he was reasonably puzzled.

"Pairo. Are you alright?"

"Chrollo Lucilfer," he whispered, voice so low and quiet it almost slipped past Kurapika without a sound. "Who is he to you?"

Kurapika raised an eyebrow quizzically. What a strange topic to bring up now.

"An inconvenience." Strange, that felt like a lie even to him.

"So you haven't realized." Another whisper. What was going on? He couldn't possibly be thinking that Kurapika had . . . could he?

"What do you mean?"

"You're developing feelings for that man, Kurapika," Pairo explaining, eyes burning.

Him? Developing feeling for Chrollo? The notion was so ridiculous, it almost made him laugh. Instead, he settled for an amused smile, as he laid back against the headboard. "For Chrollo? That man has been nothing but a pain in the ass for the last couple weeks. There's no way I could've fallen for h - why are we even talking about this? It's completely ridiculous."

"Is it?" Pairo asked, quietly, hands clenched in his lap. He was serious. "He's the one who's been texting you this whole time, isn't he?"

"It really is just business -"

"You've never said my name like that," Pairo suddenly blurted out. Name? What?

"What are you talking about?"

"Last night, you said his name, and . . ." he trailed off. The reality of his situation suddenly dawned on him.

"Oh god. Pairo, I -"

"Don't say anything," Pairo cut him off. "It's alright. I understand. I just . . . don't want you staying with me out of obligation."

"Obligation?" Kurapika repeated, incredulously. "I'm staying with you because I love you."

"And how long do you think that will last?" Pairo continued. "Kurapika, I know you. Even if you do realize that you're in love with him, you won't do anything about it. You're too responsible for that -"

They've been cutting each other off a lot lately.

"How can you be so sure that I have feelings for that man?" Kurapika asked. "I think I'd realize something so important about myself."

Pairo sighed. "I've seen you two together before. I told myself it was just that you were becoming friends with him, and his affections were one-sided. But then, the way you looked at him, smiled at him. It's the way I look at you, but you've never looked back at me."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that, for now, it'd be better for us to go back to being friends. If you do love him, I don't want to hold you back," Pairo finished, getting up and walking to the door. Kurapika felt the panic rise up in him. The panic he felt whenever he was about to lose something important again.

"You can't just decide these things by yourself!" Kurapika called. "You don't get to decide how I feel about you, or him, or anyone else."

Pairo turned to him. "Then, tell me, who is he to you? Don't lie this time. I want the truth."

Kurapika opened his mouth to respond, ready to tell him exactly how he felt about that demon spawn.

Nothing came out.

He didn't know. He had no idea who he was to him. It wasn't like they'd ever done anything, other than Chrollo's shameless flirting from time to time. It also wasn't like Kurapika didn't find him undeniably attractive and charming and surprisingly sweet, despite his criminal background.

"When you can honestly tell me he's nothing more than a friend, I'll believe you, but for now, I think we should stop." The door shut behind him.

Kurapika sat in silence for a second, mulling over a possibly broken relationship that had gone to ashes in the blink of an eye because of a small slip of the tongue. Was it really over? Just because he'd whispered another man's name while falling asleep.

As if he'd just accept that. He'd lost enough already. He wouldn't lose Pairo to something so senseless. Kurapika was up and dressed and showered five minutes later. He'd find Pairo and set him straight.

Or at least that had been his plan.

Someone bumped into him on his way out of the building. The next thing he knew he was falling. He didn't get to find out if he ever hit the ground.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **A/N: Why is this so late, you must be wondering. Well, college is complicated business when you moved across the border just a year ago. Stupid out-of-state tuition. Anyway, I hope you liked it. I peeled around fifty apples today for a really big apple pie. My hand hurts. I still got this chapter out. Tell me how amazing I am. I'm probably going to rewrite the Pairo break up scene, though. It's not very good. I'm tired. I feel like I should've put in at least a KuroKura kissing scene before this, but then Kurapika would feel too guilty and would be too aware of his feelings and blah. I hope it's not moving too fast.**

 **Question of the Day: How will Chrollo react to Kurapika being kidnapped (possibly killed)?**


	6. Breaking Limbs

**Rise From The Ashes:**

 **Chapter 6:**

 **Breaking Limbs**

November 8th, XX21 : Age 20 : Twins' HQ

 _Crack!_

The pain was what woke him up, though the sound of his right leg being snapped like a twig probably helped. Searing, stabbing pain as his leg was twisted in a way it never should've been able to move. He let out a strangled yelp of pain, and a finger came up to his lips. His breathing came out in shallow gasps as he tried to control himself. He didn't want to show any weakness in front of these people. But the tears welling up in the corners of his coffee brown eyes, once alive and defiant in the face of all troubling circumstances, weren't so easily reined in. They trailed down his cheeks, falling down to the cold, metal seat he was lying in right now. A seat that reminded him strangely of a dentist's chair. The woman brushed away his tears in a strangely motherly fashion.

"Shhh," a sweet, serene voice whispered. The heart-shaped face of a pretty, red-haired woman came into view. "I am so sorry, my darling. It will only take a second. Like ripping off a band-aid, yes?"

Screw that shit! This hurt way more than a band-aid. Still, he found a way to answer her. Found a way to let anger boil inside him even as the shooting pain in his leg hogged all his senses. Natural painkillers tried to do their part, but it persisted. However they broke his leg, they made sure it was the most harmful way possible. He took one shaky breath and blinked away any incoming tears.

"Victoria Volkov, I presume?" he said, voice surprisingly composed. The blond realized, with some satisfaction, that he wasn't scared of them. Not in the slightest and he wasn't sure why. Perhaps he was going insane due to an underlying sense of panic?

The woman turned away, shuffling some things on the cart beside her.

"That is correct," she answered, her thick accent on full display. "I'm the twin of Vladimir Volkov. We are here to help you."

He almost scoffed out his response. "Help me?"

"Yes," she said, flicking the clear syringe in her hand, "to deliver you to your destiny."

"My destiny is to be turned into ashes?" he asked, not bothering to keep his contempt out of his voice. He wanted her to know exactly how he felt about them. _I hate. I've hated you for the past seven years. I want you to be exterminated from this Earth and burn in hell where you belong. Burn in hell like my parents and grandparents and friends burned seven years ago._ _Feel their pain, imagine their terror, smell their flesh. I want it to be the only thing you have. I want it to torment you in the same way it's tormented me._

She laughed, and it was a bell-like peal of laughter. "No, darling. Your destiny is not to be turned into ashes. It is to rise from them, as a pure being, cleansed from all those silly human desires."

"Lemme guess, I have to die first," he whispered, voice hoarse. Were his parents a part of this psychotic theory as well? "I have an idea. Why don't you cleanse yourselves instead?"

"Ah, but then who would cleanse all the others?"

"You're insane."

She pushed back his bangs with a tender, motherly look in her eyes. "No, darling, it is the world that has gone insane. This is the only cure."

Kurapika opened his mouth to reply, but then she stuck the end of the needle in his arm, and the sedative sent him off into a dreamless slumber.

"Alright, on to the next leg," he heard her say, right before all his senses were drowned in darkness.

He wouldn't wake for another few hours. And the next time he woke, he couldn't move, couldn't even open his eyes, but his hearing worked just fine and by the sound of it, Vlad had joined them. Assuming the twins really worked alone.

"Four sevens and a ten," he heard Vlad's gruff, male voice say, the sound of cards fluttering down onto what Kurapika suspected was the wooden desk he'd caught in the corner earlier.

The woman giggled gleefully. "Seems I won again, brother."

The man sighed, "so you have. How is it you win every match we have ever played, Vicky? You are cheating?"

"It seems I simply have better luck than you, brother," she answered, smugly. "Is it almost time?"

"Yes."

"Is everything ready?"

"The cabin is waiting to be lit."

"And the boy?"

"He will be out for a few more hours. I broke both his legs and one arm. He will not be leaving anytime soon."

Ha! He was awake! In your face, evil pyroman- wait, both his legs? He felt nothing though. Even with the strongest painkiller, there'd be some slight discomfort. Instead, he couldn't seem to feel anything. His entire body felt numb, like it wasn't even there.

"And if Lucilfer finds out?"

"He will not be able to do anything anyhow," she said, shifting cards by the sound of it. "The boy is dead either way."

"What do you mean?"

"Either the fire will end him, which is more likely, no doubt, or the paralyzing agent will."

Silence, and then, "you are truly the daughter of our mother."

"I even used the same type she used on father."

"J-321?" He sounded so proud it almost made Kurapika sick to his stomach. Out of disgust or uneasiness, he didn't know.

"The one and only. It will stop his heart in less than two days."

So, fire wasn't their only weapon. They also liked putting dangerous chemicals in other people.

"He is rather feisty," the woman giggled. "I had fun talking to him today. Intelligent, as well. I can see why Chrollo is so interested in him."

The man coughed a bit. "That is to be expected. He is a pure soul."

He'd show them his pure soul when he's done carving out their hearts and putting them in decorated jewelry boxes! Goddammit, they were making a fool of him!

"When you say Lucilfer is interested in him, you don't mean to say -"

"Of course," the woman smiled. "Though I am certain he'll get bored easily, as he always does. To be honest, I suspect he has got a thing for blondes."

"Can not argue with that. What happened to the other one?"

"If I recall correctly, she was left with an exuberant amount of money and no apology. She did not leave her house for weeks though. He is lucky he didn't have that country's army after him. That woman was a reputable Countess before he walked into her life."

"Poor girl. Should've known, though. Lucilfer leaves everything broken."

"And enjoys it too. And he thinks we are bad."

"Indeed, at least we never built a relationship with someone and broke it off without another word."

Kurapika would've rolled his eyes if he could open them. They killed people with fire. Leaving a few broken hearts behind him certainly wasn't the worst thing he could do. And no, he certainly wasn't disappointed at the fact that Chrollo had a track record of leading people on! He never liked him anyway. Their relationship was completely professional.

"It's time," said Vlad, and he heard a chair screech across the floor.

"Already? I didn't get to win again yet," the woman complained. There was no chair screeching this time so Kurapika figured she was probably still sitting.

The man coughed again. "Yes, Vicky. We must go before the moon starts to set."

And here was where the panic set in. The reality of his situation that somehow didn't become apparent when his leg had been broken by the woman. Because really, Kurapika didn't want to die. He was just willing to put it on the line if it meant killing his family's murderers. Kurapika _really, really_ didn't want to die. And especially not at the hands of these two lunatics. He had things he still wanted to do. Finishing college, getting back together with Pairo because he knew that man was just being overly emotional, and most of all, avenging his family. He couldn't die. Not now. Not yet.

Chrollo. Surely, he'd come for him. He wasn't going to die. Who knew? Maybe he'd find a way out. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to make it out without anyone else's help.

Who was he kidding? Chrollo could be halfway across the country, and, like they said, his interest in him was shallow and temporary. He couldn't rely on it to save him. That thief had made it obvious that he expected and accepted his imminent death. As for being saved by his own wit and resourcefulness, even Kurapika knew he wouldn't be able to think his way out of this one. He wasn't a psychic. He was entirely paralyzed from head to toe.

So, this was it? He was just going to die like this? Without anyone ever really knowing what happened to him other than that man and these two? And . . . Pairo, Gon, Killua, Leorio, Melody, the only people who truly meant something to him . . . they wouldn't know anything. Would they think he'd up and left? Abandoned them? Would they be worried? Would they look for him and dig up only ashes? Would Chrollo tell them eventually? Would he care enough? Would he be remembered or would he fade away into the back of their minds to be seen only in dusty old photo albums? Did he want them to remember? To suffer the way he did when he lost his family? To find out about his murderers and seek revenge the way he did?

The answer was a resounding no, but it didn't matter. He was dead either way. What happened afterwards was out of his realm of control. Death was all that awaited him. Maybe, death wouldn't be so bad? He couldn't feel anything now, not his broken legs or arm, so his burning flesh would be no different. He'd probably suffocate before that in any case. It was far from quick and painless, sure, but it felt almost fitting for him to meet the same fate as his parents and grandfather and all the neighbors he'd met in that apartment building.

A small selfish part of him was almost happy. Happy that he would be seeing them again soon, after all these years. That selfish part felt relief as he was put in a car and driven somewhere. As a door swung open and shut behind him. As he heard the flames that would soon engulf his entirety in its roar.

Kurapika smelled the smoke, and his brain told him to stop breathing it in. It held out for less than a few seconds until the blond gave up. He didn't want his last moments to be moments of struggling. That was all he'd done ever since they burned that building: Struggle. Struggle and suffer and crave for a past life that seemed like nothing more than a dream but burned in his mind like the fire he'd die to tonight. He was ready. And, as he bid his goodbyes to the world, he didn't feel regret or hatred or any of the emotions that clawed at his stomach and clogged up his throat.

And he thought that, in the end, it was an okay ride, if you ignored the whole orphaning business. He'd met Pairo and fallen in love with him. He'd met Leorio, Gon, and Killua and found a friendship he never thought he'd find. He met some guy named Chrollo, and for a few seconds, was able to let down his guard completely and let someone see the ugly parts of himself. The angry, violent, vengeful side that he hid from Pairo and the rest. Yes, he had no regrets.

That wasn't true though. He had regrets. He regretted not telling him what an idiot he was. Pairo, not him. Kurapika was physically incapable of being anything less than a genius. He regretted being so rude to Leorio and never finally telling Killua to just ask Gon out already, because really, who did he think he was fooling? He regretted not asking Chrollo more about his past, because above all, he'd wanted to learn more.

He regretted not being able to live a little longer and a little happier.

It was true, then. You couldn't get everything you wanted in the end. In the end, he ended up with nothing but the broken heart he'd always had.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **A/N: Kurapika doesn't wanna die, 'kay? It's more acceptance than anything. You're on your deathbed, you'd rather be accepting of the fact than struggle like the past, I don't know, eight years? Also, I know nothing of paralyzing agents or how they work. He probably shouldn't be able to hear them, or maybe his heart should've stopped right away. I don't care. This is fanfiction, not a scientific research essay.**

Question of the Day: Too depressing? Too much? Too little?


	7. Live

**Rise From The Ashes:**

 **Chapter VII:**

 **Live**

November 8th, XX21 : Age 25 : Paris

Chrollo Lucilfer was a peculiar man. One could call him emotionally detached, but then they'd have to ignore his obvious love for the other members of his band of thieves. Chrollo Lucilfer was a bloody psychopath with everyone but his makeshift family. Which made it all the odder that he was willing to go this far for someone outside it.

The man removed the lid of the box containing the pendant. He gathered the golden bird was meant to be a phoenix. One single brilliant ruby sparkled in place of its eye. Spectacular workmanship, no wonder he'd stolen it all those years ago.

Placing the cover back on, Chrollo leaned back in the leather seat. He hadn't stolen it this time, knowing that Kurapika wouldn't be too thrilled about possessing something illegally. A couple thousand dollars was nothing to him. His thoughts returned to the blond, and he found himself missing his company. It felt strange after all these months to not know what was going on in the blond's life. Though, Chrollo guessed he was probably out with Pairo again. The raven-haired man found him a bit too simple for someone of Kurapika's complexity, but then, it was the blond's choice. So Chrollo contented himself in wondering how long they would last. As blissfully domestic as they seemed, Kurapika didn't completely trust Pairo. He cared too much.

He sighed, turning to look through the window of the train, at the flashes of rain and lightning bolts mingling together in the dark sky. How pathetic. Worrying about someone who really had nothing to do with him. And not in the way one would worry about something they possessed and were dedicated to the growth of. That sort of worry he was well-acquainted with. This was different somehow.

His phone brought him out of his reverie. Without even glancing at the Caller ID, he flicked the screen and answered the call.

"Yes?"

"Hello, Danchou ~!"

Chrollo considered hanging up right then and there. Hisoka was the last person he wanted to talk to now. Or ever. Unfortunately, the demented magician was good at his job.

"Hello, Hisoka. Make it quick, please," he said, polite and calm as usual. Hisoka was annoying, but he was still a Troupe member, and Chrollo was nice to all Troupe members.

The man on the other side of the conversation chuckled. "I have some information on your pretty blond toy."

Chrollo ignored his taunts. Replying to them would only serve to encourage him further. "Go on."

"They got him."

His grip on the box tightened, his hand shaking a little before he reigned in his emotions. This was bound to happen. He just needed to decide how to approach the situation. Before now, he would've left him to die. The Spider came first and getting in the way of the twins' plans could possibly put it in danger.

But then, a face flashed to the front of his vision. Straight, golden locks framing a delicate-looking pale face, his cheeks flushed from the cold night air. Defiant brown eyes gazing up at him from under thick eyelashes. There had been so much life left to be seen in those eyes. To think in a few hours they might be nothing more than two empty, glassy lenses. That he'd touch him and all he'd feel was the cold grasp of death.

What was he saying?

Kurapika would be burnt to a crisp at the hands of those twins. There would be no corpse to bury. Just ashes mixed in with more ashes.

Bloody hell, was he really going to do this?

Kurapika's face flashed across his vision once more.

Oh, hell yes. He couldn't let him die. The twins would just have to deal with it.

"Where are you now, Hisoka?"

"Just being your toy's stalker, that's all."

"Save him."

The next words came in an excited, disbelieving tone, "everything comes with a price, Chrollo."

"Save him."

The call ended and Chrollo dropped the phone on the seat next to him. That was about as much affirmation as he'd get from that man.

He really wasn't looking forward to whatever this 'date' business Hisoka had been yearning for was.

The door to the compartment slid open and Pakunoda popped her head in.

"Hey, Danchou. They're playing cards if you want to join . . . is something wrong?" Paku asked, every inch the older sister he'd never had.

"It seems," he started, voice level and calm. Chrollo wasn't surprised Pakunoda could tell. Reading people was her specialty, "the boy has been kidnapped."

Pakunoda immediately took a seat across from him. She cast him and anxious gaze. "I see. What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to save him."

Pakunoda's lips curved upwards.

"Good choice."

. . .

November 9th, XX21 : Age 25 : Outside the Spider's Mansion

"Signed, sealed, and delivered," Hisoka chirped, handing the beautiful boy off to Chrollo, who took him gingerly in his arms and moved to walk back inside. Had it been anyone else, Chrollo would never have let the meeting place to be in front of the mansion, but this was Hisoka and knowing him, the magician already staked out here a few times.

"Thank you, Hisoka. You're dismissed," Chrollo said, bringing the frighteningly cold boy closer to his chest. His breathing was shallow and his clothes a bit charred. There were a few minor burns here and there and a particularly nasty one on his thigh. His legs and arm were bent at inhuman angles. Chrollo felt something akin to anger engulf him.

Hisoka didn't leave. He just stood there with an excited grin on his face. "Aren't we forgetting something, Danchou?"

"I suppose I owe you a favor, hmm," he said, closing his eyes to keep his annoyance safely underneath his mask. "Very well. What is it you'd like?"

"A fight."

"A fight?"

"I heard you were an undefeated street fighter before you went into the thieving business. You're quite infamous," said Hisoka, grin widening as he saw Chrollo stiffen at the mention of his past. "How many people did you kill again? Twenty?"

"Nineteen. The last one survived."

Hisoka chuckled, joyously, "your own little brother, I heard. Poor boy got mixed in with the wrong crowd."

Chrollo allowed the memories of that time to be remembered. He'd stopped trying to forget about him. About his little brother and what he'd done to him.

"Agreed," he finally said, Kurapika's body suddenly feeling heavier, "I'm a little rusty, though. Give me a few months."

"I'll give you six."

"We have a deal." He shut the door behind him. Looking up, the dark-haired man finally acknowledged his Spiders. Some were furious, some were worried, and others remained unemotional.

Nobunaga was the first to speak. "We can take care of that bastard here and now, Danchou!"

"Yeah! Who does that clown think he is?" Phinks said.

"Leave him alive for me," Feitan added, maliciously.

Chrollo smiled at them. "Leave him be. He earned himself a favor. Machi."

"Yes, Danchou," she said, looking like the good soldier she was.

"Come with me."

She followed him up the stairs to the bedroom where they had kept Kurapika before. Chrollo placed him gently on the bed, and the turned to her. Machi was one of the most talented underground doctors he'd ever met. If anyone could heal him up, it was her.

"Can you help him recover?"

She moved to inspect the damage. A few minutes passed and she nodded. "They were counting on the fire to kill him. None of his injuries are too serious."

"I'll leave you alone then," he offered, knowing Machi preferred to work in solitude.

The woman nodded, already calculating the injuries if the look on her face was anything to go on.

He'd be fine.

. . .

November 16th, XX21 : Age 25 : In Chrollo's Office

"Danchou," Machi's cold voice reached him. "The blood tests brought up something interesting."

Chrollo turned to her, feeling a strange sense of unease well up inside him. "What is it?"

"A paralyzing agent," she said. "I've never seen one so potent before. At this rate, his organs will stop functioning."

Well played, twins, well played, but he wasn't giving up that easily. "Is there any way to counter it?"

"I know a few people who are experts at paralysis, I've already contacted them. I sent them the blood samples as well," she informed.

"Well done. Thank you, Machi. Tell me if you find anything."

She nodded curtly before turning to walk out, leaving Chrollo to return to his work on their next heist.

"One more thing," he remembered. "How long do you think he has?"

"He's surprisingly resilient. I'd give him a week, maybe a week and a half."

He leaned back in his chair. "I see. Best not to waste any time then."

. . .

November 16th, XX21 : Age 25 : In Chrollo's Office . . . again

"You found a cure?"

Machi nodded, though he could see the reluctance written on her face. There must be side effects.

"What's the catch?"

Machi wet her lips, before starting to speak in a quiet, almost worried tone, a direct contrast to her usual monotone. "Later in life, he might develop some . . . complications."

"Like?" It wasn't in her nature to beat around the bush.

"Seizures, blackouts, chemical imbalances in the brain, paralysis from the neck down, and," she paused, "death."

Chrollo pursed his lips. Surely, if they had more time, they could narrow the list down a bit, but they didn't. Kurapika had gone through a week now, but his condition was rapidly declining. He'd be dead within days.

"Sounds like a standard fee," he muttered. "Do it. I won't let them be the cause of his death." That was surely what Kurapika would want as well. He wouldn't let him die. Not now. Not because of them.

She nodded, still reluctant, but willing to obey as any Spider would.

. . .

November 16th, XX21 : Age 25 : Kurapika's Room

The blond stirred a little, and then slowly, his eyes opened. He blinked to get the sleep out of them, and his face scrunched up adorably as he took in his surroundings. Chrollo felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders as he saw that life flood back into the man's face. In the back of his mind, he registered that he'd been worried about him. Especially, since he had now placed his emotions into more-or-less a category.

"Finally up, are you?" Chrollo said, placing the book he'd been reading on the nightstand beside the bed.

Kurapika turned to him, as if only now noticing he had a guest. For a few seconds, there was silence, and then . . . "what took you so long?"

Chrollo couldn't help but chuckle a bit at that comment. Kurapika certainly had a strange way of thanking people.

"I'm sorry the trip here from Paris put a bit of a damper on my rescue mission. I had to get Hisoka to save you instead."

Kurapika cringed. "What'd he ask you to do?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

Kurapika raised an eyebrow but said no more.

"How are you feeling?"

Kurapika shrugged. "I've been better, but I suppose that's too much to ask for."

Instinctively, the man reached out and fiddled with one of those honey-colored strands of hair. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Here I thought you wanted this to be over quickly," said Kurapika, slapping his hand away. A smile spread across his face even as his hand began to sting a little. Same old, stubborn, standoffish, hot-tempered little sweetheart, wasn't he?

"So did I."

"What changed?"

Chrollo debated telling him the truth about his feelings. It wasn't like he was afraid of rejection, and the last few couple days had merely confirmed that he had fallen hard for the boy. It couldn't hurt him. No, his concern did not lie with himself, but with Kurapika. It'd be selfish to drop something like this on him after what he just went through. On the other hand, it might prove as an efficient distractor. The boy might look the same as ever, but it was clear there was a storm brewing underneath that facade.

"I love you."

Silence fell over the room like a blanket of snow. Kurapika's face reddened and his eyes widened as the words were processed in his genius-level brain.

"What?" Kurapika asked, voice quiet, none of his usual confidence laced into it.

Chrollo stood and leaned in close, the gap between their faces so small it was nearly nonexistent. "You've tamed quite a beast, sweetie."

Kurapika frowned. "How come you get to be the beast?"

"I clearly have more issues than you."

"Wanna bemph!"

Chrollo noted Kurapika's lips were dry and chapped, but nonetheless satisfying to claim. He'd bring him some water later, and then steal a few more when he wasn't paying attention.

His hand went up to caress his cheek and tilted the blond's head for further access. He never knew exchanging saliva with someone else could be so pleasant. It left him wanting more. Wanting to test his limits. He pushed further, eliciting another moan from the blond. And suddenly, he was being kissed back just as fervently. It couldn't last though. Eventually, their individual situations brought them back to reality. Kurapika broke the kiss.

"Chrollo." The blond nudged him away. "I'm still with Pairo."

Chrollo fought the urge to kiss him senseless again. He had no limit to his self-control most of the time, but this proved to be surprisingly difficult. Another issue revealed itself.

"Which reminds me. How did those two catch you off guard, anyway?"

Kurapika averted his eyes. "I might've gone out alone for, maybe, five seconds?"

"After I explicitly asked you to stay with at least one other person?" he asked. Kurapika nodded, a bit sheepishly. "You're horrible at following directions, you know that?"

"Well, I couldn't just let Pairo go on thinking I had feelings for you," Kurapika scoffed. "I have no clue where he got that idea. It's completely ridiculous."

Chrollo smirked. "I think those moans from a few seconds ago would beg to differ."

Kurapika rolled his eyes, and if he could he would've surely crossed his arms. "So you're a good kisser. That doesn't mean anything."

His body urged him to show the blond just how little significance it had, but his mind quickly slammed the breaks.

"So, what happened with your dear Pairo?" he asked. "Did he break up with you or something?"

Kurapika became solemn all of a sudden. "Sort of. But I'm sure I can talk some sense into him."

Chrollo gave him his own version of a Hisoka grin. It was less creepy and certainly fewer people would doubt his sanity, but it was still obvious where this was going. "So, for all intents and purposes, you're single now."

"I - I suppose." He was so cute when he stuttered! Oh dear, he really did become Hisoka for a second there. He didn't like what this 'love' was doing to him.

Chrollo leaned down to kiss him again, planning to go a little further this time, but then someone cleared their throat. They both turned towards the source of the sound only to find a disapproving Machi standing there with her arms crossed.

"With all due respect, Danchou," she started, voice tight and curt. "I'd appreciate it if you stopped sexually assaulting my patient when he only has one good limb to use."

"Understood," Chrollo said. "I'll be going now. Take care, kid."

"Kid? You confess your love to me and yet you still call me a kid?! How old are you, anyway?! Hey, where do you think you're going! Machi, how old is he?"

"I believe he'll be turning twenty-six on November 30th."

Paku was already waiting for him downstairs, dressed immodestly as usual and not caring.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm going to have a little talk with Kurapika's idiot boyfriend."

. . .

November 17th, XX21 : Age 25 : Some Pub

"Now, this is pathetic," Chrollo scoffed, walking up behind the brunet with an almost cruel smirk on his face.

"What do you want, Lucilfer?" Pairo asked, swishing the alcoholic liquid around in the crystal glass, eyes following the movement.

Chrollo took the seat next to him. "I'm here to talk about Kurapika."

"There's nothing to talk about," Pairo replied, almost bitterly. "It's over."

"Don't assume everything is about your relationship with him. I don't care about that."

"Clearly."

"I'm not in the mood for your attitude, young man." Oh, now he just felt old. "You haven't seen him all week, have you?"

"I figured he was with you."

How petty.

"He is now. I found him in a burning cabin, beaten and bruised. They broke both of his legs and his arm, and injected him with a poison that could easily stop his heart." Go on. Ask him the question.

"They? Who are they?" Pairo asked, his overprotectiveness clear. Silly boy, he couldn't do anything against the twins. He'd be dead before he even got close.

"They're called the Volkov twins. They're after Kurapika. They have been for weeks now," Chrollo explained. It wasn't his place to say any of this, but he knew Kurapika would never come clean and Pairo needed to know if he was to be of any help to the blond. "He'll explain it better. I can take you to him if you'd like."

He stood up but Pairo immediately caught his arm.

"Why are you trying to bring us together?" he asked. "You love him too, don't you? You want him just as much as I do."

Chrollo smiled, closing his eyes and laughing a bit. "It's true. I won't deny it, but I'm afraid my brand of love is different from yours. I'm not looking for a relationship. These feelings are enough for me."

"Is this one of those moments where you sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of the person you love?"

"Perhaps." It was mostly true, though. He wasn't looking for a relationship. He had had plenty of those. Kurapika was different. Rather than wishing to possess him in the webs of his love, he would rather see him happy. So, while a relationship with him was preferable, he was content with settling for admiring him from a distance.

"I won't stand for it," Pairo said, and for a moment, Chrollo saw his brother in the brunet's place. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but he'd never noticed it so acutely. Pairo's personality and appearance were miraculously similar to Demitri's. Too kind for a world like this. And unfortunately unsuited for someone with Kurapika's potential for darkness.

"Excuse me?"

"I want to win against you," Pairo clarified. "I won't let you just drop out after all this. Fight me for him."

Chrollo turned back fully, surprised to see such selfishness. "And if he chooses me?"

"Then I'll admit defeat and give him to you."

"Don't get cocky, boy. I don't accept gifts, if I want something, I take it."

"Do we have a deal?"

Chrollo smirked. So, even a man like Pairo could surprise him? Were his abilities to predict other's actions fading away? Well, he couldn't have that.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **A/N: Is Chrollo OOC? He seems like the type to accept his feelings for someone quickly. Maybe, I didn't put in enough build-up? As for him being willing to give up Kurapika so easily. I figured that if he ever fell in love with someone as a person, he wouldn't be too possessive of them, but rather want them to be happy. I don't know, he seems pretty selfless to me when dealing with the Spiders, and I've never really seen him treat them like possessions. It's true that he sees humans as toys, but if he truly grew to care for someone, that person wouldn't really be a toy anymore. Maybe, I'm stretching the limits of his character a bit. His love is strange, that's all. He wants to love Kurapika, but that doesn't automatically equal a relationship in his mind. As for the kiss, that was to distract Kurapika from his traumatic experience. You'll see more of that next chapter.**

 **Next:**

 **Kurapika deals with the fact that he almost died. Pairo apologizes profusely. Oh, Kura also contemplates what that kiss meant to him. There are about two to three chapters left, folks.**


	8. Chaos

**Rise from the Ashes:**

 **Chapter 8:**

 **Chaos**

November 30th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider Mansion

If Kurapika had to describe the thieves' house in one word it would be chaotic. Nobunaga was in an argument with someone every five minutes. Phinks kept playing pranks on everyone, including him. Machi, who was growing more over-protective of her patient every minute, had barred off his room from said pranks after a rather unpleasant experience with a dozen or so garden spiders on his pillow. Unpleasant for him, rather disastrous for the spiders. Chrollo had laughed for ten minutes straight, causing Kurapika to throw said pillow at him and demand it be sanitized.

The other Spiders had enough sense to leave him alone. Though, the cellphone one named Shalnark seemed intent on becoming friends with him. Kortopi was one of his favorites. He was quiet but supplied good conversation when necessary. Similar to the other two girls. They were easily the saner of the bunch. Franklin usually argued with Nobunaga and Uvo - who was gigantic and annoying. Then there was Feitan. He was short and terrifying with a dark look in his eyes that made Kurapika feel like he was mentally skinning him alive. Wasn't Feitan the one who tortured people? What happened in his life that made him enjoy such things?

Kurapika was mostly stuck in his room, recovering, but Chrollo sometimes brought out the wheelchair, intent on not making the blond spend all his time cooped up in his fancy cage of a room. Blondie wasn't fond of the wheelchair, and he couldn't wait to get out of it, but it was either this or being carried by someone. The five seconds it took for Chrollo to move him to the chair was bad enough. Staying in bed wasn't an option either.

"Breakfast," Machi announced, walking in with a tray in her hands and a stoic disposition as usual. "Danchou asked me to bring this to you. He's a bit busy with the next heist." She handed him a red-bound, leather book. "He thought you might enjoy it."

He took it, inspecting the cover. It was in miraculously good condition, though it had clearly been leafed through quite a few times. In black letters were the title and author's name.

 _Chronicle of Lucifer_

 _L.K. Demetrius_

It took just the first paragraph for him to figure out who the author was.

"Bloody hell, he's an author too?" he asked as if the very thought was blasphemous.

Machi glanced at him while checking his injuries. "You figured that out quickly."

He shrugged. "I had my suspicions when I saw the title, but I figured it could be a coincidence. It was obvious once I read a bit. His writing voice is similar to how he talks in real life."

"Danchou said you'd react like this," she informed, done with her checkup. "It's loosely based on his own life. He wants you to pick out what's true and what's not."

A game? He considered burning it as an act of rebellion, but then remembered that one, he couldn't move without someone's help, and two, it was a book and Kurapika was physically incapable of damaging books.

He had nothing else to do.

"What happens if I can pick out what's true or not?"

"I don't know."

Never had someone told him they were clueless in such an emotionless manner.

"Your arm and legs are recovering well. I'll give it another week at this rate," Machi said, writing down a few things in her notebook. "You have a strangely rapid healing rate."

"It's a family thing."

"Do you mind if I take a few blood samples?" she asked, slipping out a clear syringe from her coat.

"Didn't you already get those?"

The blue-haired woman shrugged. "This is a different test."

"What? Are you looking for mutants?"

She didn't reply, which put his hypothesis in the 'maybe' category. Oh dear.

"Just get on with it," he relented. Machi circled around to his bad arm and let the needle slide in. The liquid life quickly filled the small glass chamber with red.

She inspected it carefully. "I've never seen such a vibrant shade of red in blood before," muttered the girl.

"Tell me if you find out that I am, in fact, an alien."

No reply satisfied his joke. Machi soon left, replaced by a cheerful blond man with a baby face that seemed awfully out of place paired with his muscular body.

"I brought Mario Kart!"

"Never heard of it." Or maybe he had and he just didn't remember. He was never much of a gamer.

Shalnark laughed. "Well, now you have. Scooch over, will ya?" The blonde took a seat beside him on the bed after slipping the disk into the Wii and tossing him a controller. Nevermind that Kurapika only had one good arm.

"So, how does this work?"

. . .

November 30th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

Pairo came a bit later, once Shalnark and he finished a few rounds and the Spider Head felt it was alright. They'd made up, thankfully, but Chrollo only allowed them to speak face-to-face and the visits were sporadic. He suspected the twins might be keeping an eye on his boyfriend. It was probable that they knew Kurapika had been saved.

The man kissed him on the temple and whispered a greeting in his ear. Kurapika hadn't told him about the little incident with Chrollo when he'd woken up. After all, he had yet to understand what it meant to him. And if he didn't understand, he doubted Pairo would either.

"How are you feeling?" Pairo had asked, eying his legs, and not in the way people usually did.

Kurapika shrugged. "Not much different from your last visit." He leaned into him, placing his head on his shoulder, Pairo responded by wrapping an arm around his thin waist.

"I still can't believe you've been hiding this from me for so long," said the brunet, quietly, shifting to brush Kurapika's hair out of his eyes. "You're a fantastic actor, do you know that?"

"So I've been told," the blond responded, relishing in his warmth, even as his mind continued to stubbornly put forth the roguish face of his old captor/current ally who was clearly into him.

"Or perhaps you don't know him as well as you think," another, smugger, voice interrupted the two. Kurapika resisted the urge to roll his eyes, then thought better of it, and rolled them anyway. No need to suppress any urges around the man he loved and the man who could read him like a book anyway.

Pairo tightened his grip around his waist, as Chrollo came closer. Their eyes met, and Kurapika could see the intensity in their gazes. It wasn't a good kind of intensity either. More of the I'm-gonna-bloody-murder-you kind of intensity.

"If you're going to fight over me," Kurapika started, and their gazes fell back on him with the good sort of intensity this time, "at least do it subtly."

"Can't get anything past you," Chrollo reasoned. "So, there's no reason to act like we're not."

"Well, do it somewhere else. I had a near-death experience two weeks ago. I don't need another one by way of your stupidity."

Chrollo was the first to speak. "It's strange how much of a condescending prick you can be when you're insulting others."

"I wouldn't have to sound like a condescending prick if you hadn't forced me into this ridiculous love triangle."

"It wouldn't have to be a love triangle if you chose someone."

"I did choose someone!"

"You chose the wrong person."

They glared at each other for a few minutes. Well, Kurapika glared and Chrollo gave him a blank stare because he wasn't capable of glaring at Kurapika.

"Pairo."

"Yes, darling?" he asked, sweetly, though Kurapika knew he was trying hard not to laugh.

"Tell Chrollo that he may see himself out of my room," replied Kurapika, facing away from the focus of all his annoyance. He heard Pairo repeat his words. Chrollo said something vaguely sarcastic before leaving, and they were left in peace. He sighed, "that man will result in my dwindling sanity someday." Pairo pulled him closer. Warm and inviting, his embrace left Kurapika with a familiar sense of home. The home that Pairo had become a long time ago. The home he'd almost lost. It was easy for his mind to drift back to their reunion.

. . .

November 18th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

He heard Pairo's voice before he actually came in, practically felt him linger at the door nervously, and more than ever cursed his inability to walk. Still, the blond said nothing, letting the other man come to his own conclusion. A few minutes later, he walked in cautiously. Kurapika placed the book back in its place on the wooden nightstand. As expected, as soon as Pairo's eyes swept over his injuries, the caution was replaced by what could only be called concern.

"Oh dear God, Kurapika," he whispered, moving to sit on the side of the bed.

Kurapika tried his hand at a smile. "Yeah, it's not as bad as it looks, though I admit I've had better days."

"I'm sorry," Pairo choked out, brushing the blond's cheek. "Kurapika. I'm so sorry."

Shrugging, he simply said, "I let my guard down. It's nobody's fault."

"It's kinda his fault!" Chrollo called from his office next door with perfect comedic timing. These walls were a lot thinner than Kurapika had expected. Probably because Chrollo's office was connected to his room. A fact he wasn't quite fond of but strangely made him feel safer.

"By that logic, it's your fault as well!" Kurapika shouted back. His lungs were perfectly functioning.

"I left you instructions and everything! If you had followed them, you wouldn't have gotten into this mess!"

"So, it's my fault?!"

"It's everyone's fault!" A pause. "Except mine."

Kurapika rolled his eyes at the man's childish antics. "Just go back to work-gah Pairo!"

He suddenly found himself in the brunet's warm embrace, the distinct scent of vanilla lingering on him, probably from another day of baking. His arms wrapped around him in such a way that his injuries were left untouched.

"I've missed you," he whispered, breath brushing his ear. "I've missed you so much."

"Yeah, can't say the same for you. I was asleep for most of that time," Kurapika replied, rubbing his back with his one good arm. Pairo kissed him on the cheek, then on his forehead, before claiming his lips. And shamefully, Kurapika recalled Chrollo's little invasion of personal space just two days ago. It was different back then. Exciting and passionate, far different from the warmth of Pairo. The steady, familiar Pairo whom he'd known since Middle School when the boy had approached with a friendly grin and a request despite his distant nature. Pairo had been one of the first people he'd opened up to, after Leorio, though it was difficult not to immediately open up to Leorio. Chrollo couldn't compare to Pairo's role in his life, so why did it feel like the other man was overshadowing him?

. . .

November 30th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

Yeah, he still hadn't the answer to that question. Kurapika was no fool. He'd fallen in something with Chrollo. Love? Lust? Simple attraction? He wasn't sure. One thing was for certain, though. Kurapika wanted him to some extent. It was disgraceful. He hated the feeling. But it wasn't something he could deny. Chrollo claimed to love him, and he hadn't really done anything to have him doubt those words. He'd saved him, putting his entire organization in danger. Confusing. That was all this was.

"Alright, time to go," Machi said. The blond felt his spirits sink as Pairo withdrew his arm from around him. Warm lips brushed against his temple, and then he was gone. Machi gave him a stoic look, a cross between disinterest and curiosity. Like she wanted to ask him something but didn't care enough to, certain that she wouldn't care in a few minutes anyway.

Shizuku appeared behind her all of a sudden. "Danchou and Pairo have left the building. He's taking him back to town right now. We've got twenty minutes to set everything up."

Ah, yes. The birthday party he'd nearly forgot about. Which was strange since it had been his idea.

Machi lifted him into his wheelchair, being the surprisingly strong doctor she was, and rolled him out of his room. Pakunoda was waiting downstairs and she gave him a friendly smile as he came down.

"Do you think he suspects anything?" Kurapika asked.

Paku simply shrugged. "It's Chrollo Lucilfer. He always suspects something, though I doubt he actually has the whole thing figured out."

"Good. We have the cake?"

"Check."

"Snacks?"

"Check."

"Dinner?"

"Check. Trust me. We're all good on food."

"Presents?"

"One from each of us, and then another from Hisoka," Paku answered.

"Which was?"

Machi answered this time. "We don't know."

"You don't know? You're telling me Hisoka sent Chrollo a 'birthday present' and you don't know what it is?! It could be poison for all we know! Here, give it to me." Amateurs. They were clearly new to this whole birthday party business. He cleared his throat as the repercussions of his actions dawned on him. "Please."

Shalnark was the one who ended up delivering Hisoka's gift to his lap. It was medium sized and covered in sparkly gold wrapping paper. The box itself was simple and black with only the words LeClair written on it. He opened it only to be met with more wrapping paper and a handwritten note. The man had nice handwriting, he'd give him that.

 _For you. Feel free to take ideas for your eventual nightly escapades with that delicious blond of yours._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Hisoka_

 _P.S. I want details._

Kurapika crumpled up the letter in his one hand and tossed it into the waiting trashcan. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what this present was, or what he meant by 'nightly escapades'. It didn't sound like moonlit walks in the park.

He gingerly lifted up the wrapping paper, one look at the cover and all his unwanted questions were gifted with unwanted answers.

 _Webs of Love_

At least the people on the front were more or less clothed.

He hoped Chrollo would throw it away because there was no way he would fall for a man with such strange tastes. But for now, Kurapika placed it back in the packaging with expert hands and left it up to the older man to decide.

"Heh," Shalnark started, "you'd be a pretty good thief, Kurapika."

"You take that back."

. . .

"Surprise!" Kurapika shouted as Chrollo walked through the door with a pensive look. Chrollo gave him a confused stare that could almost be called adorable.

"Happy Birthday, Danchou!" the Spiders lagged behind a bit in his opinion.

"Seems I'm officially closer to being thirty. Pretty soon, I'll get the privilege of calling myself old," he joked, finally catching up. The man walked forward, stopping near Kurapika and giving his friends an impressed grin. "Well done. I hadn't the slightest clue what was happening."

Shalnark spoke this time. "It was all thanks to Kurapika! He's almost as good at planning as you are, Danchou!" They truly jumped at every opportunity to call him that.

"I see," Chrollo said, stepping behind the sitting blond, his hand subtly brushing Kurapika's shoulder. "I suppose I should see what else you have planned for me."

. . .

Kurapika was already dozing off when Chrollo came to sit next to him. He would've missed him if he hadn't called his name.

"Tired already?" the man asked, maintaining a friendly distance, though his eyes told a different story.

"Parties have never really been my thing."

Chrollo gave him a small smile, before focusing back on the wine glass in his hand, the red liquid swirling around a bit with the elegant movement of his wrist. "Not too bad at planning them, however."

The blond yawned, almost moving his arms up to stretch before he remembered one of them was still healing. "We all pitched in. Your Spiders know some strange things about you."

"I suppose that's inevitable," Chrollo replied, watching as Nobunaga and Franklin got into yet another fight. "You look beautiful tonight."

Well, that was one way to change the subject.

"Thank you?"

"I can find us a few activities that might soothe your boredom," he added, suggestively.

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Yes." He eyed him longingly, before turning back to the party. Kurapika took this opportunity to snatch his glass away.

"How many glasses have you drunk?"

"Ten, I think." Stopped counting, you mean.

"How have you not passed out yet?"

Chrollo shrugged, too tipsy to think apparently. "I wanted to talk to you."

"That's not a valid answer," Kurapika replied, giving the man an unimpressed look as he took in his uncommonly less-than-perfect appearance. His hair had a wind-swept style to it, the first few buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned to show off just a bit of that muscular chest. Even his cheeks were slightly reddened. It was so adorable and somehow inviting that it just served to make him even more confused! This man will be the death of him!

Chrollo suddenly leaned his head on his shoulder, humming happily. Kurapika did nothing but stiffen his spine even more.

"I want you, you know," Chrollo started, almost thoughtfully. Oh dear, here came the drunken confession. "It's been so long since I felt this way for someone, but." He took his hand. "I don't think it's going away, and if there's a chance for you to love me back, then I'll wait."

Aw, that was kind of sweet. Kurapika almost replied, but then he saw the man had gone limp against him. Pale fingers reached out to thread through midnight black hair. His eyes darted around the room to make sure no one was watching as he permitted himself this one act. Quietly, he leaned against the other man as well. Not soon after, both men had dozed off into a peaceful slumber.

. . .

He woke up again a few hours later, warm and secure and _alone_ in his own bed. Hearing some footsteps next door, he assumed it was Chrollo getting some late night work done. That comforted him further as he sank into the mattress.

And then.

And then it started.

Flashbacks of fire and smoke and helplessness that kept him up at night. The panic rose and the blond tried to fend it off by hugging an arm to his chest as if that would help at all. His breathing slowed down again, though his heartbeat was still erratic. His fingers clutched the place right above his heart, fingers digging in. One, two, three, four, five, six. He counted in his head to calm down and drown out the memories.

And then it was over. And Kurapika went on pretending it hadn't happened at all.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **Next: Kurapika is attacked . . . again. And this time, Chrollo's there.**

 **Question: What will Chrollo do?**


	9. An eye for an eye

**Rise From The Ashes:**

 **Chapter 9:**

 **An Eye For An Eye**

December 5th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

Kurapika had long decided that actually going to class and experiencing the lesson first-hand was far more entertaining than having to learn it from the comfort of his bedroom in the Spider's Mansion. There was far less motivating him to do well. At least that was the last of his various essays, he thought, stretching out his sore arms. It felt good to finally get the casts off, but his muscles would have to get used to moving again after almost a month of being put on probation.

Alright, on to Biosocial Criminology. Wonderful. Time to pick apart what makes sociopaths tick.

Time to sleep.

No. He had to stay awake. Sure, it was past midnight and his mind kept reciting how important sleep was but if he didn't stay on task he would inevitably be left behind and then he'd come back to class and be completely lost and then he'd fail all his classes, lose his scholarship, and never complete his major therefore making it impossible to pursue his chosen career and . . . screw it . . . just a thirty-minute nap wouldn't hurt.

. . .

December 6th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

He woke up the next morning in his bed. Snow fell quietly across the clearing, glowing in the morning sunlight. The trees held down by blankets of the stuff. Everything had transformed in the few weeks he'd spent here, from a myriad of fall colors to a Winter Wonderland. It was surprisingly quiet that day. Peaceful under the gloomy, dark sky. Heh. So much for a thirty-minute nap.

A clattering sound suddenly made its way to his ears. From next door? Chrollo's office? What the hell was he doing up so early?

Kurapika reluctantly left the comfort of his bed and went to check on the other man, just in case his caretaker had broken his neck somehow. Thankfully, he looked unharmed, despite the fact he was currently splayed out across the floor. He held a black box in his hands, looking down at the contents with a satisfied little smile.

"Up already?" the man asked, finally tilting his head up to peer at the blond with gentle, obsidian eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing," Kurapika replied, kneeling down to be on the same level as the criminal mastermind. "What are you doing up so early? You caused quite a ruckus."

The man smirked, edging closer to the blond. "And for that, I apologize. I was looking for something I'd forgotten about."

"And have you found it?" _Can I go back to sleep, or do I need to help you search out of courtesy?_

"You remember when I told you I'd find that artifact I stole from your apartment?" he asked, picking up whatever was in the box. A necklace?

Kurapika's eyes widened dramatically as he recognized the pendant. That craftsmanship, that flawless design.

"You found it!" he whispered, excitedly, taking the golden phoenix from his hands. "I can't believe you actually found it! Where was it?"

"Paris. Come to think of it, you came from France, didn't you?" Chrollo reminisced, though Kurapika could only think about how there was something more than just him left over from the fire. The bloody priceless heirloom, saved only because it was stolen. Was he shaking? Better than bursting into tears, right?

His fingers curled to engulf the precious golden bird. "Thank you."

"I figure there's more to it that I'd originally suspected?"

Kurapika shook his head. "It's a long story."

"We've got all morning."

The blond narrowed his eyes, but then a slow, almost flirtatious, smirk crossed his lips. There had been a few questions nagging him in regards to Lucilfer's past. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he wanted to know what had made Chrollo _tick._ What made him pick up these thieving tendencies? "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

And just like that, the man stood and brushed himself off. "Perhaps another time."

"You had a brother, yes?" he asked. It was common knowledge that once you stirred their memories, offered them simple, unassuming questions, then the real answers would come on their own.

"I did."

"What happened to him?" Was it the same as in the book?

Chrollo turned back to the blond, who was still sitting on the ground, and gave him a challenging, roguish little grin. "Why don't you try to figure it out? You've finished the book, I suspect?"

Kurapika stood and retrieved the book from his room with an eye-roll. It was filled to the brim with notes and had obviously been leafed through several times by the ever-studious blond.

"Okay, so, I figured the part where you grew up in a place called Meteor City is true," Kurapika answered, accepting the cup of coffee Chrollo had somehow whipped up out of nowhere. Oh, wait . . . no, there was a coffee maker. Mmm, hazelnut. "Though, I take it the magical power system isn't real."

"Your intellect never ceases to amaze me," Chrollo said, sitting on the loveseat. The blond followed suit.

Giving him a shut-up-and-listen sort of look, he continued with his observations. "Though stealing other people's powers sure suits you. I suspect that you turning to a life of crime did have something to do with funding the city, but I think what really got you into it was paying your brother's hospital debts so he could keep getting the treatment he needed. He's not dead, is he?"

"No, no, he's not. He's actually recovering quite well," Chrollo answered, eyes blank and focused on the mug of coffee in his hands. "Currently resides in a rehabilitation facility. He's made quite a few friends according to the reports."

"You haven't gone back to see him?"

Chrollo shook his head. "He doesn't need someone like me in his life."

Kurapika shrugged, before taking a sip of his coffee. "I suppose you're right. Crime circles were what got him into all this trouble in the first place." Another sip and a somber look overtook his face. He had lost his entire family in a fire. Not a day went by that he didn't wish he could still speak to them. That they were still alive. Had they survived he wouldn't have any time in seeing them again. Though, he supposed it was different when you were the reason they almost died in the first place. "But what if he _wants_ to see you?"

"He doesn't."

"How do you know?"

"Would you?"

Kurapika scowled. "From what I could tell, in your novel, that boy looked up to you more than anyone."

"And then I dragged his expectations through the mud. Not only that, I became exactly what I'd told him he could never become."

He sounded so bitter and broken. Kurapika had never before heard him take that tone of voice. Once, he'd threatened him. Pretty much every other time they were together, the man was the epitome of carelessness. He teased him relentlessly, mixed in some flirtatious phrases every now and then, almost always served his lines with some distance from the darkness beneath, from the person he really was. Which was rather infuriating since Kurapika felt the man was easily one of the few people he could trust with _his_ darkness.

For God's sake, Kurapika just wanted to be there for him to some extent.

Anyway, this was what they called 'progress', yes?

"Yeah, you messed up pretty badly," Kurapika started, not quite liking how he sounded a bit like Leorio in that phrase, but really, Leorio was easily the best at comforting people. "But you'd be surprised how much people are willing to forgive."

"But never forget."

"No, but these sorts of things aren't really meant to be forgotten." Ah, life lessons, living with an insatiable thirst to avenge his family had taught him many things. The truth was that if he had a choice he wouldn't have picked this path for himself. He really was doing this for his family. Chrollo's brother doesn't have anyone to avenge but himself. And really, the desire to avenge thyself is far weaker than the desire to avenge your loved ones. Eventually, you'd consider what it was that you really wanted and realize this wasn't it. Revenge for others was far stronger, since what you wanted didn't come into play. It was based in honor and justice, not desire and spite.

Oh dear, he'd been rambling internally again.

"Alright, your turn," Chrollo chirped, brightening up again so easily it almost scared him.

Kurapika relented. That was enough for now, then. He'd drawn the line.

"Alright, then," the blond sighed, wondering where to start. "As you know, my family and I came from a village named Lukso in France. We lived right by the coast, but far away enough to be missed by, well, everyone. We moved around a lot, you see, but most of my life was spent in that place. Anyway, this . . ." He lifted the pendant. "Belonged to my great to the fifth power grandfather. My parents actually named me after him, so technically I'm Kurapika Kurta the Second, spitting image as well." And he was proud of it too. "He founded our village and our crest ended up being a phoenix with red eyes, because apparently no matter what we went through, we came back in the end."

"So, what happened to him?"

The blond gave him a glare for being interrupted. "I'm getting to that part. Kurapika Kurta the First had really, really pretty red eyes."

"And?"

"People wanted them. In fact, he became better known for his eyes than his work as a philanthropist and entrepreneur. So, that's why he started the village. He didn't want to go into complete isolation, you see. Just away from people who'd want his eyes. Didn't do much good, unfortunately. He was killed and had his eyes gouged by some thieves at the age of forty six. His wife, my great to the fifth power grandmother Isadora, took over for him."

"What happened to his eyes?"

"Probably still in circulation somewhere."

Chrollo gave him a strange look. "And you're okay with that?"

"Well, after five generations of trying to find them, I've sort of come to terms with the fact they're probably never going to show up," Kurapika said, a slight sadness tinging his voice, as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

"We could help you look for them."

"I wouldn't know what to do," Kurapika muttered, rejecting the very idea.

"They're yours. As his only living descendant, you deserve to get them back," Chrollo reasoned, fingers tapping against the ceramic shell of the mug.

Kurapika smiled slightly. "I have my hands full at the moment. Besides, I don't want to devote my life to something that happened over a hundred years ago."

"Understood, if anything comes up about a pair of red eyes, you'll be the first to know," Chrollo assured, moving a bit closer to the blond. "Did you sleep well?"

Kurapika raised an eyebrow at the change of subject but accepted it gratefully. "Yeah, I was pretty tired anyhow."

"I keep telling you not to overwork yourself," the man chided, shaking his head in disappointment.

Running through all their conversations, Kurapika came up with a blank. "You've never told me that."

"Really?" Chrollo replied, more to himself than to Kurapika. "I thought I made it quite clear."

"Implications don't count."

"Well, you don't listen to me very well anyway," Chrollo shrugged.

"It depends."

"On?"

"On whether or not what you're saying is worth listening to," the blond responded, haughtily. "Which it usually isn't."

Chrollo smirked. "You really aren't an easy person to love, you know that?"

"Neither are you." Kurapika pursed his lips as soon as the words leave his mouth. Goddammit, why did he always slip up around him? He shook his head and prepared himself for the consequences.

"Oh, Pika, you love me! You really love me!" Chrollo teased with faux enthusiasm, throwing his arms around the blond and nuzzling into his shoulder.

"I hate you," Kurapika muttered, but didn't move to unravel himself from his human cage.

The doors suddenly flung open and the Spiders barged in, weapons in hand and scary looks on their faces. "DANCHOU! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!" Eleven pairs of eyes fell on the two of them and the weapons fell to the ground with a thump and a collective disappointed murmur fell over Chrollo's loving comrades. Kortopi even kicked the trashcan beside him. It didn't have much of an effect on the tin cylinder, unfortunately.

"Oh dear," Chrollo said, releasing the blond. "It seems I caused more of a ruckus than I'd imagined."

Shalnark, the only one who hadn't had a weapon in his hands, chuckled. "I told you so. Pay up."

Another collective groan of disappointment and Shalnark found himself at the center of attention. Which really wasn't a good thing.

"Hey," he said, voice nervous and hands raised placatingly. "Let's talk about this."

Everyone, save Pakunoda who didn't give a shit, chased him out of the room. Some with an angrier stomp to their run than others. The ones who hadn't run after the poor baby-faced blond prayed for his safe return, though they were all used to it by this time. Chrollo even shook his head at their antics ;ike a fond, albeit exasperated, mother.

"You two," Pakunoda mumbled under her breath, giving them an exasperated look, "will be the death of me."

"You worry too much, Paku," Chrollo responded, and hugging Kurapika once more when the other man tried to escape.

The blond wriggled around to find a way out, but alas, he had never been known for his outstanding, superhuman strength. "I give up," he finally breathed.

"It's my job," Pakunoda answered, giving Kurapika a pitying look. The blond rolled his eyes. Pity was good and all, but it didn't mean anything if you just stood there. It meant even less when you just started to walk away from the scene of the crime!

"Wait! Come back! Don't leave me here alone with the dreaded pervert thief!" Kurapika felt like shouting, but he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't completely terrible to be held by him, anyway. As long as it didn't step out of bounds, this would be alright.

"What's been keeping you up lately?" Chrollo asked, still not releasing him.

"School," Kurapika answered, shifting his weight so he'd be more comfortable. "It's a lot harder to keep up my grades from a distance."

The man narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Don't you have perfect scores in all your classes?"

Kurapika shook his head. "I have a ninety-nine percent in chem."

"Oh, however will you survive?" Chrollo asked, dramatically. The older man placed his face in the crook of Kurapika's neck, lips brushing against the soft skin, trailing along the elegant curve.

That was enough.

"Chrollo, let go."

He released him, albeit reluctantly. With a sigh, he muttered, "your loyalty is admirable, but an incredible inconvenience in terms of my victory."

"You treat this like a game," Kurapika commented, putting some space in between the two of them and leaning his elbow on the armrest.

"That isn't my intention."

The blond picked himself up off the couch, before tossing the man a cold glare over his shoulder. "Well I have no interest in playing the prize, whether it be intentional or not."

. . .

December 6th, XX21 : Age 26 : Spider's Mansion

 _"You can't claim to be in love with him if giving him up is something you could do so easily,"_ the boy had said after a particularly tense argument on the car ride back to campus. Pairo might be a bit dense in certain things, but he certainly did know just what to say to hit a nerve.

It wasn't an easy decision, though. For Chrollo, who could usually come with the proper response for any given situation in under five minutes, the several weeks it took for him to decide to let Kurapika go was of a record-breaking length. After all, if you loved someone, the next rational step was to let them go.

But Kurapika hadn't actually told him to back off.

Pathetic. Chrollo Lucilfer, the world-class gang leader, angsting over a romance. What had that man done to him? He certainly had mellowed since he'd met him.

He heard the mattress next door creaking as Kurapika finally decided to turn in for the night. Before midnight, too. What sorcery was this? His fingers itched to open the door to the next room, as they usually did, and sometimes the urge won out, but not tonight. He had too many thoughts tonight. Thoughts regarding the blond.

The dark-haired man heaved a sigh, leaning back in his chair and massaging the bridge of his nose. This would be much easier if Pairo hadn't challenged him. Chrollo was could at admiring and loving people from afar. He had experience in distance. Trying to properly bond with someone and actually putting his heart into it was difficult. He had his Spider, but they were a different story. They were family. They grew up together. Bonding took place long before Chrollo began to shut himself off from the world, figuring he didn't owe it anything. Kurapika came long after. Chrollo could to charming. Friendly? No problem. He could act the nice guy. The playful one. He could be whoever was most compatible with the blond. But it would always remain just that. An act. His true self. He'd forgotten who that was the moment he'd turned on Demetri. Kurapika had the potential to help him remember.

The sound of a loud thump next door brought him out of his reverie. It sounded like . . .

"Get off me!" The sound of someone crashing into a wall or the like followed. Chrollo's eyes shot open, and his hands reached for the desk drawer. Gripping the handle of the weapon, he slid into the room unnoticed.

The object of all his affections and stress was currently slammed against the wall, pinning him to it was Vlad Volkov, wielding a syringe and iron grip. His blood boiled at the sight, but being the cold, methodical bastard he was, he let it simmer below the surface. Kurapika was putting up a good fight, but Volkov had been in the killing business for far longer. Volkov was aiming for his neck, so the probable sedative had to be injected through one of the veins there to work. Now, where should _he_ aim? The best plan would be killing him right then and there, but then, there'd still be Victoria to deal with. He wouldn't let him go, that was absurd. He'd get Feitan to deal with him.

So, with that split-second decision, he raised his pistol and shot him in the leg. The man crumpled to the ground, surprisingly intolerant to the pain. Kurapika wisely got out of Volkov's reach as soon as possible, and Chrollo wasted no time in coming over to his side. He could already hear his Spiders coming.

"Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down next to the young student and setting down his gun somewhere close by. The man cupped the blond's face, searching for signs of injury. Kurapika nodded a bit numbly. "Are you alright?" he repeated, louder this time.

"I'm fine!" Kurapika replied, pulling away. The man breathed a sigh of relief, before bringing him into a hug.

"You've got luck on your side, child," a creaky voice whispered, deep and broken. Volkov stared at them with empty eyes. "No one's ever been able to outrun us for so long."

Kurapika didn't answer, but his jaw clenched and his eyes grew almost fiery with fury.

"I both pity and admire you," he continued. "We don't leave survivors for a reason, you know, we would never wish the punishment of isolation upon anyone. You still being alive was a miscalculation on our part, and for that, I apologize."

"Apologize?" Kurapika repeated voice barely above a whisper. Chrollo himself felt goosebumps crawl up his arms. There it was. The darkness. That most exhilarating darkness. The man picked himself up, something metal glimmering in his hand. The pistol?

"Kurapika -" Chrollo found himself getting cut off.

"Chrollo. Don't try to stop me," the blond continued, still whispering, detached and stoic. He raised the gun with surprisingly expert precision at the already injured man crippled on the floor. With just a look at his face, Chrollo could tell he was lost. Nevertheless, he attempted to reason.

"Kurapika, he'll be dead soon anyway," he said, reaching out to him.

"By somebody else's hand," said the blond, stepping out of his reach and closer to his target, who did nothing to get out of his way. "Do you know what the most satisfying part of revenge is?" A cruel, fleeting smile crossed his lips. "You get to kill them yourself."

The trigger was pulled and the peal of the gunshot shattered the air.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **(A/N: I like being evil, it's fun. Writing my Dark!Kurapika which is more like canon!Kurapika than my normal!Kurapika is fun. I think I'll keep him around for the next . . . oh wait, there's only one chapter left. Oh well. So, you'll see him next chapter, I guess. Also, about Kurapika wanting to kill the Volkovs himself. It's made obvious in the anime that he doesn't like the idea of anyone else killing off his targets. York New Arc, right after PT turns up dead, he's all depressed and stuff and everyone feels really bad for him. Y'know, in the fandom. In universe, only Melody cares. Speaking of Melody, I should put her in the next chapter. Anything else seem of to you. Chrollo's being OOC again. Sorry 'bout that. Different universe = different circumstances = different Chrollo?)**


	10. A tooth for a tooth

**(Imagine Melody as Deku's mom from My Hero Academia.)**

 **Rise From The Ashes:**

 **Chapter 10:**

 **A tooth for a tooth**

December 6th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

His body went limp as soon as the bullet ripped through his chest. The shot had been perfect, worthy of the most skilled gunman. Blood pooled in the center, his head fell to the side as if he'd fallen asleep. His blue eyes, clear as the blanket of ice on a lake, had been left wide open and dulled. Thin lips parted slightly, caught in the middle of his final breath.

Kurapika felt nothing, except perhaps the embers of his fury still burning quietly somewhere within him, doused slightly by the realization of his vengeance on half his target.

"Kurapika," Chrollo whispered his name, gentle and wary, as if approaching a wounded feral animal. "Give me the gun now." Warm hands wrapped around his, prying the dark pistol from his cold fingers.

Next, people started filing in. First came Paku, then Shalnark, Machi, followed by Nobu and Uvogin, Phinks, Franklin, Bonolenov. Lastly, a tired Kortopi, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and carrying what looked like a pillow in his hand. Feitan and Shizuku were nowhere to be seen for some reason.

"What happened?" Paku asked, eyes surveying the room and coming to their own conclusion.

Kurapika felt Chrollo place his hands on his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as he was led out of the room.

"Wake Shizuku up," Chrollo ordered, before locking the office door behind him.

Silence followed, one not knowing what to say and the other not caring enough to say anything. There were scrapes heard in the next room, followed by what sounded like a vacuum starting up and the quiet whisper of voices too quiet and too mingled to pull apart.

Kurapika spoke first. "I'm surprised you didn't stop me."

"You asked me not to."

The blonde looked up, coffee brown eyes taking more of a honey shade in the warm light. On the inside, he still couldn't seem to fester up any particular emotion. It wasn't what he'd expected. Maybe a sense of triumph or crushing guilt. Not . . . emptiness.

"It's normal," said the older man, tipping his chin up. "To not feel anything at first."

"And then what?" Curiosity was all that lay beneath that question.

"We'll see," he answered, nonchalantly, removing his hand. "No one's the same. I gather you'll have nightmares until the end of your life and blame yourself a little more every day."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're not a murderer."

His brow furrowed in confusion, but the man said nothing to elaborate. He just crossed the room and opened another door, this one leading to his own room.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather keep an eye on you from now on," said the man. "And don't worry, my intentions are pure."

He let a curl of exasperation fill him at that unnecessary comment, but he stepped inside the room anyway.

"Mostly."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," the man sang, following him inside with a cheerful smile.

The room itself was about the size of his own, with books lining the walls and a few - probably stolen - paintings adorning them. It looked almost normal.

"Get some sleep," Chrollo suggested, messing up his hair. "I've still got some work to do, but I'll be along shortly."

Kurapika flattened down his golden locks, glaring at the man. He wasn't a child and disliked being treated like one. "Take your time."

Without further ado, the blond collapsed on the bed and curled into a fetal position. It wasn't as soft as his own, but it wasn't too hard. Something sitting comfortably in the middle, smelling distinctly of Chrollo. A scent he couldn't quite place but was intoxicating and soothing nonetheless. Falling asleep wasn't much of a problem, surprisingly. He had no nightmares, no dreams, and when he woke, it was to the same cold emptiness he'd felt before. Wondering if he wasn't what Chrollo thought him to be, the man picked himself off the bed. He wasn't alright. Being emotionless after a potentially traumatizing event was never good. But . . . it wasn't like he was reacting badly either. Perhaps, after planning and preparing to first see them behind bars and then kill them with his own hands for years, his actions actually catching up with his ambitions had come as no surprise?

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a sleeping dark-haired man spread out on the bay window as if guarding the room against an outside attack. His head tipped slightly downwards, lips forming a thin line of neutrality and midnight hair falling into lidded eyes. The light of the winter sun making him almost seem ethereal. But there were other things Kurapika hadn't noticed before. Like the fact that there were dark circles under his eyes, or that a small, thin scar across his cheek marred his otherwise perfect skin. Or that there was a cross tattoo on his forehead.

Wait.

That hadn't been there before.

With slight hesitance, he reached out to touch the strange mark, but before he could so much as brush his fingertips on the inky black cross, his hand was snatched away. Dark, stoic eyes stared at him, taking him in, before releasing his hand and softening a bit. A small smile graced his lips, an easy, sincere little curl at the edges of his mouth.

"Is there something you need?" he asked.

"I never took you for the tattoo type," replied the blond, conversationally.

His eyes widened a fraction, then glanced away. "It was a long time ago."

"That's the 'branding' you talked about in your book," Kurapika continued, despite the fact it was clearly a touchy subject. "The one the elders gave Lucifer."

"Yes."

He'd never imagined that part was real. It seemed excessive, even for a past like his, and that cross mark had never shown on his forehead before.

"You cover it up."

"I do."

"Why? Are they . . ." He couldn't finish. He wasn't sure if he knew how to finish that sentence. These elders were a mystery even in the books. Who knew? Maybe even Chrollo himself had no idea what their end goal was. Had been. Were they even still alive?

The man shook his head, black hair following the motion as if it had caught on the wind. He looked serious, as he usually did when his past came up. Kurapika supposed that was unavoidable given the circumstances. That didn't mean he didn't want to know more.

"I was their golden child," Chrollo explained, bitterly. New emotions were popping up everywhere with this man. "But they were scared at the same time. As soon as they lost control of me they decided to cut off our arrangement."

More like tried to cut off your head. "How'd you get away?"

"I didn't. I got strong enough to make them want to run the other way at the sight of me," he said, smiling devilishly, eyes growing dark with the memory. Kurapika felt a shiver climb up his spine but blamed it on Chrollo cranking up his deadly criminal aura. Because there was no way he could be attracted to that.

A few seconds passed and he was suddenly back to his normal self, all concern for Kurapika and no traces of darkness in the shadows of his expression.

"And you? How are you holding up?"

Kurapika shrugged. "I think I'm still in the processing stage."

"You even got to sleep last night. You're more of an enigma than I thought, Kurapika Kurta," the man complimented. Or at least it sounded like a compliment, but with Chrollo you could never really tell.

"It's not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "Feelings?"

Chrollo chuckled a bit. "Hmm, by the way, you might wanna change out of those clothes."

Huh? He looked down at his sleepwear. It looked norm-oh. There were specks of dried blood all over, small and almost invisible on the bluish fabric. He hadn't even noticed. But then, he had just killed someone. Who checked out the state of their clothes right after they killed someone?

"Right," he heard himself say. And right as he was about to enter the scene of the crime, his steps stalled. He shook his head and ignored the nagging feeling. Grasping the brass doorknob, turning it, and walking into his previous living arrangements.

His pulse suddenly became erratic as his eyes fell on the blood staining the pristine floor. The bullet had pierced the wall, leaving a small indent. He'd been the one to cause this. There was a man whose life had been cut short by him.

 _The life of a murderer,_ he told himself. That man had burned his family alive. He deserved punishment. He deserved worse.

But was this really a question of what he deserved?

The moment he pulled the trigger, he stopped being a victim. He became a murderer. It wasn't self-defense, he wasn't trying to save anyone. He'd acted because Volkov had been vulnerable. There had been an opening.

He was a murderer. Just like them.

His stomach turned, the feeling of nausea so overwhelming he fell back on the bed, sitting there, staring as his hand came up to cover his mouth. And then he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close.

"And there it is," he heard Chrollo mutter.

"Why didn't you stop me?" Kurapika rarely asked the same question twice, but this time, he felt justified. Chrollo had been five steps away. Why hadn't he taken the gun away? It couldn't simply be because of his request.

"Because you asked me to."

"You're lying."

"And because I rather see you unravel right in front of me rather than alone."

Kurapika swallowed down the nausea and focused on the other man's words. "Why would you want to see me unravel?"

"So I could know the best way to help you," he explained. Kurapika raised a dubious eyebrow, waiting for more. "And so you wouldn't be able to hide it from me."

"I wouldn't hide it -"

Chrollo just gave him a skeptical look and he caved.

"Ok, so maybe I would."

"It's not a bad thing," Chrollo replied. "You're too compassionate to let other people deal with your problems. However, at some point it becomes harmful. I wanted to help both of us avoid that."

"So, you let me murder someone in front of you?" Kurapika summed up, almost incredulously, as he leaned away from the man like he'd sprouted another head.

"Precisely."

Kurapika had been ready to shoot back something catty and resentful, but he was cut off by the sound of a door slamming.

"I came as soon as I heard!" Melody?

A middle-aged woman with dark red hair and orange eyes suddenly took the young man in her arms, hugging him tightly, before pulling back. She was a little shorter than Kurapika, chubby and rather cute.

"Are you alright?" she asked, taking his face in her hands. "Pairo told me everything. I always knew that fire was fishy. Oh dear, you look so pale."

"I'm fine," he answered, despite the fact he felt his face was being squashed. It was strange seeing his guardian so worked up. She was usually so calm and quiet. "Are you?"

She breathed a sigh of relief, placing her hand over her heart. "Oh dear, you nearly gave me a heart attack. As soon as Pairo told me about what happened. Oh goodness, you're a troublesome child."

"Gee, thanks," Kurapika muttered. "Did you come all the way from the Orphanage?"

"Pairo came to pick me up," answered the woman. "You should go talk to him. He's waiting outside, not sure what to do with himself. Try not to laugh at him reciting what he wants to say to you."

Kurapika rolled his eyes, but the shadow of a fond smile flit across his face. "Will do." He got up, ended up being hugged by Melody one more time for good measure, cast Chrollo a meaningful look, and then went on to meet his anxiety-ridden boyfriend. He'd ask Chrollo how said boyfriend figured out about this later.

The blond caught some of the members giving him a variety of different looks. Some looked worried, others pitiful, many others either proud or full of a respect he hadn't seen before. Then there were the others, Feitan in particular, who gazed at him with little emotion at all.

He ignored them, focusing instead on the lean, muscular figure of the man outside. Pairo was pacing from one side of the porch to the other. The avenger crossed the threshold with little hesitance. He couldn't stop to think because then he might lose his courage, and that would make him a coward.

"Hey."

Pairo jumped a bit, before turning to him, and suddenly all his anxiety blew away with the wind. The man simply gathered the smaller blond in his arms, holding him so close and tight Kurapika could swear he felt his ribs cracking.

Then, he loosened his grip, holding him at arm's length, and Kurapika saw tears of frustration and relief welling up in his eyes. The taller man took his face in his hands, much like Melody had a few minutes prior, though not as tightly.

"Hey, yourself," he replied. "How are you doing?"

Kurapika shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

"Are you sure? You have just killed a man?" Pairo whispered, voice gentle despite the subject, not a single layer of disgust in his tone.

Kurapika winced nonetheless. "How much did they tell you?" _How can you look at me like that knowing all I've done?_

"Just that you were attacked by one of the twins, and that you killed them. In self-defense," he tacked on the last part, hastily, and Kurapika felt his heart sink. He didn't know. He was the one who would have to tell him. To see the emotions flash across his face as he tried to make sense of everything.

"Chrollo had already shot him in the leg," Kurapika confessed, backing away and wrapping his own arms around himself, trying to keep out the cold threatening to engulf him. "He had already been immobilized when I killed him."

And then he would say . . .

"What are you trying to get at?" His voice incredulous, like he couldn't believe the man he loved could have sunk so low.

"I killed him when he was already down," said the blond. One word ran through his mind.

 _Murderer._

The man replied, "well . . . that's . . ." He swallowed thickly, trying to unplug the words that had stuck to the walls of his throat.

"Horrible?" Kurapika tried for a joke.

"No!" Pairo quickly refuted, before lowering his voice. "I mean, no. I mean, it's just a bit of a shock is all."

 _You don't have to pretend._

"I'll get used to it."

 _You shouldn't have to._

"We'll work it out."

 _Is it something we_ can _work out?_

Kurapika smiled, pink lips curving back into a charming smile, as the winter wind caressed his blond locks. "Right. Of course, we will."

Pairo stepped closer then, moving to place some loose hair behind his ear, to no avail since the wind was a stubborn force and kept picking it back up. He didn't seem to mind, as their foreheads touched and his arms went to wrap around Kurapika's waist again.

"I love you."

"Hmm," he hummed in acknowledgment, enjoying the warmth.

. . .

December 8th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

"Leave?" Kurapika asked, finding the notion absolutely absurd. Running away was never the answer. Your past always ended up chasing you down, pinning you to the ground. The man currently acted as almost an instructor, what with his pristine suit and the presentation board. And these seats! Did they steal them from a high school or something?

He acknowledged him with a half-amused, half-annoyed expression that left Kurapika with a mixed bag of emotions he didn't even want to start to pick apart. "Yes. Leave. Only until we get rid of the other one. After that, you can do whatever you want."

"What about you?" queried the blond. Not because he was worried, he wasn't! Alright, maybe a little, but to be fair, these people had almost killed him a few weeks ago. He was understandably concerned for the man who'd saved him.

"I'll be fine," Chrollo waved away the tense atmosphere. "I've taken a shot to the chest and two to the stomach before and lived."

"You have?"

"No."

Kurapika scowled. "Will you please be serious about this?"

"I am serious. Anyway, back to the plan," Chrollo replied, looking quite serious, as he focused back on his Spiders. "Nobunaga will take Kurapika to the hideout. Paku, Phinks, Shal, and Machi will act as decoys. I will head over to the Volkov mansion with the rest of you. We'll take out Vicky and then get Kurapika back."

Nobunaga raised his hand as if he was a schoolboy.

"Yes, Nobu?"

"Why do I have to get stuck with the kid?" the man whined, and Kurapika proceeded to burn holes into his back.

Chrollo sighed, placing the presentation remote on the desk beside him. "Because, out of all of you, you're the one least compatible with Kurapika, and therefore believed to be the least likely to be the one driving him to Headquarters."

"But - But," he spluttered before his eyes settled on a target. He pointed at Phinks, "He put spiders in his bed!"

"Hey, I apologized!" Phinks yelled back.

And so, the fighting began.

"Are you sure you want them to look after me?" Kurapika asked again, ducking as a chair was sent flying over his head.

Chrollo winced at the clattering noise, giving the chair an exasperated look like he was planning on reprimanding it for being so loud. "Of course. I trust them."

"I don't."

The man smirked. "Would you prefer to put one of your friends in danger instead? Pairo? Wouldn't you much rather have a professional thief lead yo through such a covert operation?"

He hated when Chrollo was right. This happened more often than not in their arguments.

"Alright, just make sure not to attract attention," Kurapika said, eyeing the self-proclaimed samurai skeptically.

Nobunaga growled, "I don't need you tellin' me that, brat."

"Which means no swords," Kurapika continued, skillfully ignoring the impudent man. Months of spending time with Chrollo had polished his senses.

"What?!"

"Or robes."

"But!"

"Or palm tree hair," Kurapika added.

Nobunaga started spluttering curse words in his native tongue, held back by Phinks and Shalnark, as Uvogin laughed his head off. Kurapika massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to block out his surroundings. But behind the irritation and mind-numbing exhaustion, a small part enjoyed the company of this rowdy crowd. He'd seen more humanity in them than with most other people, despite their thieving ways.

"Well, now that that's all settled," Chrollo interrupted. "Get ready. We're leaving in the morning."

"Tomorrow?" Kurapika asked, a bit too loud. He hadn't expected it to be so soon.

"Yes. And no telling Pairo, understood?"

Kurapika pursed his lips. "Of course."

. . .

December 9th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

Kurapika awoke an hour before the appointed time to the familiar jolt of nerves. Wrapping his arms around himself, he turned on his side in an attempt to hasten the coming of sleep . . . to no avail. His nerves had been stretched so far, he could feel the strings of his sanity about to break. The source of his anxiety, Kurapika couldn't quite place. Perhaps, it was the murder still sitting in the back of his mind, questioning his humanity. Maybe it was the impending journey. It was most likely both.

After five minutes of zero progress, he propped himself up and took the thick, red book from his desk. With all the blood and violence in Chrollo's retelling, you'd think it'd be harder to fall asleep. You'd be right. But Kurapika didn't want to sleep.

He lost himself in the prose, imagining Chrollo's calm, silky voice speaking the words. Would his tone change at all? It was hard to believe a man so composed could ever be anything more than that.

 _Michael had fallen into a critical state. With his lung collapsed and reportedly drowning in his own blood, my brother would be dead by sunrise. Usually, it wouldn't have escalated so quickly, but in Meteor City, we pride ourselves on some of the most inexperienced doctors in the world. I finally decided I had to move him to another ward outside of our home, but that was easier said than done. The one hospital in Meteor City already took more than three-fourths of the money I received from the smuggling ring. The rest of us could barely survive on that alone. As much as it pained me, I couldn't give my entire salary to my ill brother. I had twelve other mouths to feed, not counting myself, and I wasn't about to let any of them be pulled into the Council's inner workings. There had to be some other way._

Kurapika smiled despite the dark context. Chrollo's selflessness. He hadn't fully understood before he read his life story. It was an interesting contrast to his thieving persona.

The door to the studio room next door opened.

 _'Speak of the devil.'_

The older man poked his head into view. "I saw the light was on." Recognition rippled across his pale face as he noticed the book in his hands. "I'm flattered, but I won't be responsible for your half-dead state when we get this mission on the road."

"I just woke up," Kurapika defended, turning his nose up in the air almost haughtily. "Couldn't get to sleep again. Wait, what are you -"

Before he knew it, the man had slid into the spot next to him, pulling the covers up to his waist and letting their shoulders touch. Kurapika ignored his heartbeat and tried moving away, but an arm wrapped around his waist.

"We'll stay up together," Chrollo announced, eyes on the book. "Where did you leave off?"

Kurapika pointed out the paragraph, all the while acutely aware of the other man's breath on his ear and the scent of old books and something equally comforting. They spent the rest of the time quietly reading, Chrollo finishing each page a bit faster as Kurapika tried to let everything sink in. The blond felt his hand move instinctively each time the man started turning a page he wasn't quite finished with and Chrollo would linger there, relishing his touch. The encounter felt more intimate than Kurapika than all his encounters with Pairo as of late. It's like they'd lost all common ground, their mutual love and respect for each other being the only thing keeping them together. What would happen if even that love started to fade?

The book closed suddenly.

"It's time."

Kurapika picked his head of Chrollo's surprisingly comfortable shoulder. "Right."

Chrollo gave him a fond expression. "Nervous?"

The blond nodded, slowly. He had a high-strung personality, so anxiety was nothing new, but he usually didn't feel it to such an extent.

"Just stick to the plan and you'll be fine," Chrollo reassured, threading pale fingers through platinum hair.

He hoped so, he really did.

. . .

"Okay, brat," Nobunaga started as soon as they headed out to the car. "Let's set out some ground rules."

"Agreed," Kurapika replied. "I decide on the music, am in charge of when and where we stop on the way, and how fast we're going."

Nobunaga seemed confused for a second, muttering something that sounded like an, "okay," before catching on. "No way am I letting you take charge of anything, bastard!"

"Why not?" Kurapika asked, trying his best to sound genuinely curious.

"Well, I . . . be-because,"Nobu stuttered, before catching Chrollo out of the corner of his eye. "Because Danchou put me in charge!

Kurapika smirked as a solution formed in his mind. "Heh? Well, I guess we'll have to change that. Hey, Chrollo!" The man stopped packing stuff into the back of his own vehicle, eyes meeting' Kurapika's. He immediately understood. "Can I be in charge instead?"

"You can be whatever you want, sweetie!" he called. "Just get there safe."

Sending Nobunaga one smug grin, the blond turned on his heel and gracefully slid into the passenger's seat.

"At least I'm letting you drive."

Nobu snorted, unamused as the engine started.

. . .

Kurapika amused himself with the scenery as the two of them drove by the mountains. It reminded him a bit of his hometown in Lukso.

Something silver caught his eye. Flashbacks of that night filled his vision and he blinked them away, unconsciously reaching for the gun. He inspected it closely and took it for the same model he'd used on Volkov. Used to murder him.

"Oi, put the gun down," Nobu ordered, nervously.

Kurapika didn't do as he was told, instead using it to his advantage. He had some questions he wanted answered. "About Chrollo. What is he really planning?"

"Huh?"

The blond pressed his lips into a line. He didn't much like this interrogation business. "He held another meeting a few hours later. Why?"

"No reason," Nobu replied, tone terse and cold.

He wasn't buying it for a second.

"It's about the operation with the twins, isn't it?" Kurapika concluded. "What's going on?" _What could be so terrible that he wouldn't tell me?_

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," Nobu assured.

It couldn't that he . . .

"He's going alone," Kurapika whispered, breathless at the revelation.

Nobunaga scoffed. "What? No! He's just -"

"Why?" If it was a good enough reason, he might consider letting him go through with this idiotic notion.

"He's not going alone. He's got plenty of back up. They're just gonna be a little further away," Nobunaga lied, and it was obvious. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact,

"Why?"

Nobu scowled. "I'm not telling you."

He raised the pistol to Nobu's head. The car swerved and Nobu scrambled to gain back control.

"Okay, fine!" the man agreed, anxious, as if his passenger had suddenly turned into a madman ready to kill him at any second. Oh, wait. "Apparently, Vicky thinks he killed Vlad. So, instead of coming after you . . ."

"She's going after her brother's murderer." For a second, he almost empathized with the woman. But then he remembered she'd killed plenty before. She deserved none of his sympathy. "You know where he is?"

"No."

"I'll take that as a yes," responded the blond, surprised at his own daring, but one thought overshadowed any doubts in his mind.

 _I'm not letting them take anyone else away from me._

He was going to make sure that man got out alive.

"Take me to him."

"As if," the man scoffed. It was the wrong move to make.

"Either I shoot you now and you remain immobile for the rest of the ride and end up not being to help your precious Danchou at all, or you take me there and help me get him out of there," he offered his final ultimatum.

Nobunaga scowled, but pulled over anyhow, "Danchou can handle himself."

"Maybe," Kurapika agreed. "Maybe he can. But I'm not going to take that chance. Not unless the possibility of him dying is zero."

With that one declaration, Nobu's face almost softened. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"That should come to you as no surprise."

Nobu scrutinized the barrel of the gun, squinting at it. "Alright. Fine." The subtext was clear.

 _But if this goes wrong, it's your fault._

Kurapika could deal with that. After murdering someone, every other little misdeed paled in comparison.

. . .

"We'll go in through the back and that split up to look for them," Kurapika ordered, strategic mind already hard at work. "Are you sure this is the place?"

Nobunaga nodded, surprisingly complacent for someone who had been calling the blond man a brat just a few hours prior. "Danchou's got a tracker on him. Only Troupe members know about it."

Smart bastard. Kurapika would probably do the same in his place.

The two of them were immediately met with a fork in the road. Two identical, old oak doors stood menacingly. The place had looked abandoned from the outside, cobwebs hanging from every nook and cranny, but the inside was immaculate. Not a spot of dirt soiled the floor, the walls coloring a calming shade of blue, and the ceiling a spotless beige hue.

"I'll go left, you go right. Get rid of anyone in the way."

"Tch, you don't have to tell me that, brat."

Kurapika was met with a marble staircase, pristine and glimmering in the pale light of the chandelier above. He heard the sound of people approaching and quietly raced up the steps before disappearing into the corridor. So, the Volkovs didn't work alone. They had people on their side. At least in here. He'd suspected this, but having it confirmed . . . what kind of people would be twisted enough to work for those two?

He lingered around, taking in the guards' appearance. They had no uniform or defining traits. Chrollo's cross suddenly flashed across his mind. Perhaps, the Volkovs used something similar to mark their employees? In that case, he wouldn't be able to play it off if someone found him. Best to stay out of their way.

But five minutes later, one of the doors in the corridor opened and three men walked out, all armed with a nasty amount of ammunition.

"Oi, what are you doing here?" one of them jabbed, placing a large, hammy fist on his shoulder. Kurapika slipped out of his grip gracefully, brushing off his shoulder as if the man was a walking virus.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, eyeing him up and down with his most suspicious and scrutinizing gaze until he saw him squirm. "Show me your identification."

"Y - you mean the tattoos?" one of them squeaked, clearly intimidated, and Kurapika thought his plan was going quite well.

"Yes, imbecile," Kurapika hissed, venomously, turning the full force of his glare to the tall, gangly stick of a man in plaid. "What are you waiting for? I don't have the time for your antics."

The men shrunk away, before rolling up their sleeves to show a red V contained in a flame.

"I'm surprised Vicky and Vlad would dare hire such amateurs," he mumbled under his breath, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "Return to your posts, and this time, try to remember the face of your superior."

The first, and largest, man was nudged by the other two. "Ye - yes, sir."

"One more thing. Where is Vicky? The service in this place is as awful as ever and I wish to offer my condolences," Kurapika said, hoping his cluelessness wouldn't show.

"She's in the sunroom," one of the goons answered, pulling at the cuff nervously.

"Which one?" He wasn't sure if there was more than one, but the mansion was huge, so maybe they didn't either. They looked like rookies.

They gave him blank stares before the shorter two nudged the main guy again. "The one at the end of the East Wing. She came with some guy. There's guards there, so just give them the password and you should be fine."

"Yes, yes I know," Kurapika sighed, turning on his heel and waving lazily. "Now get out of my sight."

A sunroom, eh? He might have better luck going through the forest.

The blond trickster opened one of the doors in the corridor and crossed the dark room. It was empty to the point where he couldn't tell if it was meant to be a bedroom or an oversized closet. The afternoon sun filtered through the single, small square window. Kurapika pushed it open, measuring the drop down to be around twenty feet. He'd rather avoid that. If he jumped far enough, he might be able to reach one of the branches.

Pushing down his nerves, the man crouched down on the window sill and pounced. Apparently, he overestimated the distance and was met with a branch to the stomach, leaving him gasping for breath as he climbed up and balanced himself on the tree. Alright, then. Remember Chrollo. Just focus on getting him out of here. Think about how good it would feel to punish him afterward. Blah, bad choice of words. Reprimand, yes, yes, reprimand him afterward.

The branch creaked under his foot and Kurapika winced, before hastening his steps and grabbing onto the trunk. The snow and ice proved to be quite the hindrance. He wasn't expecting it to be this bad. He might do better on the ground.

The sound of a gunshot ripped through the air. Kurapika's breath hitched, pulse quickening as he went from limb to limb before reaching the ground. Too slow. He was too slow.

 _Oh, God._

He ran through the trees and the several feet of snow, hoping he wouldn't fall waist-deep into it and end up with another dead friend thanks to his own weakness.

 _Don't be dead. Don'tbedeaddon'tbedeaddon'tbedead._ _ **Don't leave.**_

He got to the sunroom in under three minutes, strengthened by the panic and fear he felt rather than the determination to get there in time. Chrollo looked uninjured, but the woman, dressed in a clashing pink dress and a black scarf, held a gun in her hands and she looked ready to use it. Going by the whole in one of the windows, Victoria had already used one shot and missed, probably on purpose. Something told him this time she wouldn't be so merciful.

To be quite honest, the blond didn't feel like sparing her death either.

He wouldn't kill her out of spite, like he did her brother. She was suffering, he could tell, from the death of a loved one. Lost her purpose and only guided by a flighty revenge. This was the greatest mercy he could give her.

Or at least, that was what he told himself to justify another murder at his hands.

She crumpled to the ground, and Kurapika felt a stab of guilt that hadn't been present the last time. No period of shock came, no surprise at what he'd done, or questioning of his humanity. His body count had risen and all he felt was sympathy and the slightly sickening feeling as he watched blood pool on the wooden floor. He knew what he was capable of.

 _I'm sorry. You should've picked someone else._

He felt eyes on him. Chrollo had caught sight of him, black eyes widened in a myriad of emotions. Kurapika felt his thirty layers of anxiety fall away, as his companion climbed through the window and ran to him. Ran, not because he was eager to get to his beloved, but because there were still people in the mansion who could catch sight of him.

"You," he breathed, "are late."

Confusion contorted his face. "What?"

"You were supposed to show up ten minutes ago before she fired the first shot," the raven-haired man elaborated, easily.

Kurapika blanched, right before feeling a furious fire rise in him. "This was your plan?!"

"I knew you'd be mad, which is why . . ." He took a piece of folded paper from his pockets. "I made a list of all the reasons this was the only option. Purely because I believe this is a partnership and you deserve to know the whole plan."

"After it's over and done with," Kurapika replied, crossing his arms.

"Of course. I needed your acting skills to be perfect. Which is reason number one, see?" He pointed to the first item on the list, but Kurapika pushed his hand away without even attempting to read it.

"I can't believe you manipulated me."

"Excuse me?" Chrollo said, having the gall to sound aghast. "I did nothing to manipulate you. You came here on your own like the adult male you are."

Kurapika knew where his eyes were directed without even having to look back.

"Chrollo, you walk in front!" Kurapika ordered. The man sighed heavily but did so anyway.

"Would you like to talk about your second murder?"

"No."

. . .

December 12th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

"What's this?" Chrollo asked, glancing over his shoulder at the screen.

 _Transfer applicants._

Kurapika felt him stiffen for a millisecond, but his cool, relaxed facade quickly replaced any nervousness.

"I'm planning to finish my degree in France," the blond explained, not meeting his gaze as slender fingers continued filling out the application. "My counselor said it'd be pretty much a win-win in my situation."

"And your scholarship?"

"It'll transfer over."

The man straightened, bringing the coffee mug to his lips. "That's . . . great."

Kurapika snorted. "Please contain your enthusiasm."

"I can't exactly be enthusiastic about something that will inevitably put you out of my reach," Chrollo pouted at the thought. "But if it's something you want, I suppose I can't stop you."

Kurapika nodded, satisfied with his answer, before finishing off the last part of the application. "There. Well, I suppose I should turn in for the night." No panic attacks, hopefully. As well-adjusted and rational as Kurapika was, the events of the past few months, hell, the events of the last half of his life, were hard to reconcile. Knowing he'd murdered two people. One already in the process of dying anyway. The Spiders cleaned up the physical remnants but you couldn't exactly clean up the emotional mess that was Kurapika. When he had nothing to focus on, he remembered. And when he remembered, he panicked. So, in short, he dreaded sleep.

"Kurapika," Chrollo started. The blond turned to look at him, but the thief seemed at a loss for words. In the end, he settled for actions.

Arms wrapping around his waist, Chrollo brought him closer, before pressing his lips to blondie's. And Kurapika, poor, sleep-deprived Kurapika, had absolutely no idea how to respond. It seemed his desires and his responsibilities were battling it out even more than usual, leaving his mind confused and unable to come up with a suitable compromise.

Eventually, he managed to wrap his arms around him, right before remembering he should be pushing him away.

"I swear if you cut off all contact with me after this, I will hunt you down," Chrollo whispered, minty breath hot on his lips, hands on his hips.

"I don't know if that's supposed to be romantic or disconcerting."

"I was going for threatening."

"Hmm," he hummed, contently, before untangling himself from his arms and slipping into bed. "Get out of my room."

"Aw, I thought you wanted me to stay," Chrollo remarked, not budging from his spot.

"Goodnight," Kurapika called. The other man chuckled before making his exit.

. . .

December 24th, XX21 : Age 20 : Spider's Mansion

Christmas Eve brought strange things to the Mansion. Apparently, the Spiders had an annual tree decorating contest in which they take twelve trees and garnish the shit out of them. Which is a lot more dangerous than one would imagine when the ones doing the decorating were twelve spiteful criminals. The competitions didn't stop at the trees, though. Oh no, they extended to the meals and snacks and music for the inevitable party. Pretty much anything that wouldn't annoy Chrollo too much was fair game. Which set the bar pretty low since Chrollo just didn't care what they did as long as they lived.

In the end, Kurapika ended up having to barricade himself in his room to get away from it all.

And each time he thought he was alone, Chrollo would jump out of nowhere and ask one simple question. "Have you told him yet?"

To which he would reply, "no. Please leave me alone, you persistent little maggot."

So, he hadn't told Pairo yet. Was that so bad? Well, yes, but this was a tough thing to get out. He'd definitely do it tonight though. Probably.

Tonight came and it seemed all his friends and Melody had come to the Spider Party, much to his delight and horror. Chrollo's response had been that they needed someone to eat all the food his comrades made, but Kurapika had seen Uvogin eat before, and he ate for ten people. No way they had enough to keep both Uvogin's and Gon's hungers at bay.

"Wow! You're so tall!" Gon cried, gazing up at the eight foot tall monster of a man. Uvogin seemed to like the praise, and if it was physically possible, his head would've swollen with all the ego contained in it.

He barked a wild laugh. "Yeah?! I got into a fight with a world champion of some fighting shit once. I won within five seconds. That was the day I learned -"

"Gon," Kurapika called, not exactly fond of his already morally-ambiguous friend fraternizing with criminal circles. "Could you help me with these dishes?"

"I thought you said you were fine," Nobunaga accused from behind his stack.

"Just take the first half," Kurapika said, ignoring the palm-tree samurai, as Gon walked over to them with that huge, eager smile of his. "Thanks. I was getting a bit sore."

"You said -" Nobunaga's face contorted in pain as Kurapika's heel crushed his toes.

As soon as the dishes were set out on the table, he felt a pair of arms encircle his waist. Between Pairo and Chrollo, Pairo was the only one who had been willing to wear those sweaters he bought for all his friends. Chrollo had called them a complete disaster, ignoring how soft and comfortable the fabric was. Pairo had been an understanding sweetheart and wore them - he'd bought five for each member - whenever he could.

"Hello, gorgeous," Pairo nuzzled into his neck.

"Are you drunk already?"

Pairo laughed. "Not at all. I'm trying to seduce you."

"At the dinner table?"

"I suppose you're right. Join me outside?" Pairo suggested, tightening his grip.

"Gladly."

Pairo's lips pressed to his and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chrollo watching them with a hint of jealousy and resignation in his amused expression. Kurapika didn't have much time to process it, as his boyfriend led him out of the room.

"It's a bit chilly, so -"

"I'll be fine," Kurapika cut him off. "Trust me. I've been through worse." His home in Lukso wasn't exactly airconditioned, and sometimes the fire died, leaving him cold in the night. When that happened, he'd waddle over to his parents' bedside and cuddle up with them in search of warmth. Other times, he wouldn't want to sleep, and they would all go outside and watch the stars, wrapped in several blankets and some hot beverage in their hands. Nights like these, when he'd go out into the snow and see every little dot in the sky, reminded him of those times. If someone had told him he'd be left alone in the world in a few years, he would've stepped on their toes and ran away, thinking they were complete psychopaths.

"I know that look," Pairo said, brushing away the golden hair obscuring his face. "You're thinking about your parents again."

Kurapika smiled and shrugged, "there's a lot that reminds me of them."

"You never fail to amaze me," the brunet whispered as if the very sight of the avenger was too breathtaking for him. "Even after all this, you refuse to break. I love that about you."

He was making this a lot harder than Kurapika expected with all these heartfelt words. How was he supposed to break this to him?

"I have something to tell you," Kurapika finally got out. That was a good start, right? "I'm thinking of studying abroad."

Silence. Pairo stood still, face emotionless, reminding Kurapika of Chrollo's own facade whenever something unpleasant came up.

"I need to get out of this town," Kurapika went on. "I should've left the moment I found a chance."

"I'll wait for you," Pairo said, finally. "If you want me to."

Kurapika shook his head after going over the prospect. He didn't want anyone else held down by this decision. "I don't."

"Alright, then," he tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, squaring his shoulders. "Well, I suppose I should be a little happy you chose yourself and not that man."

Kurapika jumped at the chance to lighten the mood. "Ah, well, Chrollo's a nice guy, but he's a bit too shifty for me."

Pairo smiled back, and it was warm and genuine and sweet, just like a Pairo-smile should be. "Merry Christmas."

Laughing, the blond replied. "Merry Christmas. And just so you know, this does not mean you get to ignore me."

"I would never dream of it."

. . .

January 5th, XX22 : Age 20 : Airport

"Are you sure you have everything," Melody fussed, looking him over nervously. "Your laptop, warm clothes, emergency money?"

Kurapika gave her a fondly exasperated look. "Trust me, Melody. I have everything, and even if I don't, Chrollo gave me a hundred thousand euros as a Christmas present. I can buy anything I'm missing there."

Melody smoothed down his collar. "I know, I know. I'm just a little worried, that's all. I mean France. That's so far away."

"Don't worry, Miss Melody, I'll have people watching over him," Chrollo intervened, charmingly. "He won't be getting into trouble, I can assure you of that."

"Oh, don't go to all that trouble," Melody pleaded. "I know Kurapika wants to do this on his own, so we should respect his decision."

Chrollo leaned in to whisper in his ear. "She's just like you. Stubborn to a fault."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Melody replied. "Kurapika is a thousand times worse than I. In fact, I think my stubbornness came from looking after him."

Upon seeing his surprised expression, Kurapika chuckled. "Melody is known for her crazy hearing. You can't get anything past her."

An easy smirk spread across his lips. "I see. I suppose I'll need to watch my mouth then."

"You should already be watching your mouth," Kurapika remarked before he felt his airway blocked by two long, gangly yet surprisingly strong arms wrapped around his waist. "Leorio!"

The doctor-to-be had been sporadically breaking down into tears the whole trip to the airport. Strange, since Kurapika was the one who made his life a bit of a living hell at the time. Their friendship seemed stronger than all those little arguments now.

"I'm gonna miss you!" the man blubbered, and Kurapika didn't even reprimand him for getting snot all over his new jacket, simply settling for rubbing his back comfortingly. "So much, man! It's gonna be like a total eclipse of the sun, ya know!  
Ah, song references. This was definitely Leorio.

Kurapika suddenly felt someone attack him from behind. The spikes of dark green hair were telling.

"Gon." Looks like this was going to be a group hug then. All that was missing was, nevermind, Killua joined in after much arguing with Gon. Kurapika could see Pairo lingering on the side and he gave him an expectant look. Pairo was part of their circle as well, after all. The brunet tried to resist but the blond simply had too strong of a stare, probably all thanks to his ancestry, and Pairo soon joined them.

"There," Kurapika sighed, comfortable in the arms of his friends, "I officially feel properly loved."

 _"Flight #3 to Paris, France is to leave in ten minutes. Passengers, please get to your seats in an orderly manner,"_ a dull voice droned.

"That's my cue," said the blond, removing himself from the circle, only to be tackled to the ground by a group of friendly Spiders. Nobu, Uvo, Shalnark and Machi, though Machi seemed less than enthusiastic, and a small Kortopi hanging onto his leg. "Yeah. This is just ridiculous."

Chrollo chuckled above him, with an amused Paku at his side. "You will be missed."

Kurapika stood up, with little help from the five criminals. They thankfully got off him, though Kortopi continued to latch onto his jean-clothed leg.

"I've got ten minutes, so give me your goodbyes now."

The man chuckled at his impatience, before reaching into his pocket and bringing out a red velvet box. It was about the size of a standard ring container, and Kurapika hoped the man didn't plan to propose but also wouldn't be surprised if he did. But instead of there being a ring like one would expect, the box opened to reveal a drop earring. A red crystal hung off a silver chain, glimmering in the sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the airport.

Kurapika looked up at the man, forehead contorted in confusion.

"It was my brother's," Chrollo explained. "I'm letting you borrow it for now."

The blond smirked, understanding perfectly.

 _I'm letting you leave now, but you better come back eventually. And when you do, I'll be here. And if you don't, I'll deploy my mini army and bring you back by force._

Rough translation from Chrollian to English.

"Thanks," Kurapika said, snapping the lid shut again. "I'll try not to lose it too soon."

This got a genuine smile out of the man. A hand reached to push his bangs out of his eyes before a pair of lips pressed gently against his forehead.

"I'll see you soon, my avenger," he whispered.

"Hmm," he hummed, contently. "One more thing. Do you mind taking your child Spider off my leg?"

Chrollo chuckled, before kneeling down to Kortopi's height. "It's time to let him go, Kortopi."

The child pouted, tightening his grip. Which really wasn't saying much.

"We'll see him again soon, but if he stays here, he'll be sad," Chrollo guilt-tripped. "Do you want to see Kurapika sad?"

The boy shook his head, before reluctantly letting go of Kurapika. Shalnark came over to him and pat his head comfortingly.

Chrollo gave Kurapika one last look before leading his Spiders away. That was it. No hugs, no last-minute kisses. They weren't like that. They probably never would be, but Kurapika felt that couldn't be too bad. The kiss they shared in his bedroom could be the last one. And that was okay.

He looked back to his friends, Pairo in particular, and mouthed the words, "I'll call you when I get there."

They didn't seem too convinced for some reason.

 _"Five minutes until flight #3 to Paris, France leaves,"_ the voice announced. Kurapika blanched.

Oh dear. Between murders and being late, he'd choose murders.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **A/N: This was such a long chapter, but if you read any of my other stuff on you'll know last chapters are always long for me. This also means there might be more errors than usual. I don't have a beta reader so between school and my other projects, there's a limited time for editing. And then there's the fact I'm not a native english speaker which complicates things when I'm trying to be poetic. Anyway, I hope you liked it to some degree. I'll get back to it to edit a few things later (which usually turns into never so don't bother checking).**

 **Acknowledgements: Thank you to all those wonderful people who reviewed, followed, and favorited on Fanfiction, and Kudosed and commented and bookmarked on AO3. The support really meant so much to me and really motivated me to continue this fic even when I felt like quitting. Special thanks to Unreadable0, Sweets Dreamer, Medusa Legend, Saria19, and KuroKuraForever on Fanfiction, and to Lua, sugay, and Hello_Sleepwalkers on AO3. You guys were awesome throughout the story and I'm gonna cherish all your comments forever.**


	11. Christmas Special

**A/N: It's been so long since I've last wrote something for this fic, I don't even remember what I wrote. Was it Dimitri or Demitri? I don't know. I don't care. Goodness, this is so long. This takes place several years after the events in Rise From The Ashes. Also, Kurapika and Chrollo both have incredibly healthy sexual appetites. You have been warned.**

 **Rise From The Ashes:**

 **Holiday Special:**

 **In Which Kurapika's Present Nearly Gives Chrollo a Heart Attack**

November 20th, XX26 : Age 25 : In the Mall

They had bought gifts for all the Spiders, all of Kurapika's friends, and a few for Kurapika's employer. By the time they neared the end of their little field trip, only one person remained on their gift-giving list. Chrollo Lucilfer. And Kurapika was halfway to being driven insane.

"How about we buy him this, Kurapika?" Shalnark asked, showing off some kind of antique hand mirror.

"No."

"This?" Nobu picked up a sort of sapphire case.

"No."

"This?"

"No."

They went back-and-forth like that for thirty minutes, before Kurapika finally gave up and called his lover.

 _"Is something wrong?"_ Chrollo asked, sounding distracted.

Kurapika smiled. He was probably reading a book, by the fireplace, in that chair he always liked to sit in. Like a cat. A Chrollo cat. "No. I'm fine. I was just wondering if you had anything in mind that you wanted me to get?"

Chrollo hummed in acknowledgment, and Kurapika vaguely heard the sound of a page turning. Nailed it. _"Anything is fine, really. Just come back soon. I miss you."_

Kurapika rolled his eyes. How sweet. How absolutely useless. "Are you sure? Not even a vague idea?"

 _"You, preferably coming back within the hour,"_ he replied, flirtatiously.

Lips pulled into a thin line. "I meant for Christmas."

 _"Isn't that still a month away?"_ Chrollo asked, and Kurapika could hear the laughter in his voice. It warmed his heart just as much as it plunged it into annoyance.

"I wanted to get a head start," Kurapika replied. "Now, stop laughing and give me something."

 _"I don't really want anything,"_ Chrollo said, and again the sound of a page turning. _"After all, I already have everything I could possibly need. Just get me whatever you'd like."_

How dare he put so much pressure on him!?

"Fine, I'll be back within the hour," he sighed. "Bye, Chrollo."

 _"See you soon, Pika,"_ the man replied.

"Don't call me that." And he hung up, muttering to himself about how he had wound up with such an infuriating man as a partner.

"What did he say?" Nobunaga asked.

"Nothing of importance," the blond replied, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "C'mon, we're going home."

. . .

November 20th, XX26 : Age 25 : The Kurta-Lucilfer Household

"Just stick them in the shed. No one ever goes in there," Kurapika ordered, as he headed into their home. They'd bought it a few months before they got married. A medium-sized house made with white vinyl paneling and a grey tiled roof, situated by the woods and away from the rest of the world. They could afford most any house they'd like, but Kurapika had always liked to keep it simple and Chrollo didn't care much either way. Moving out had been easy with so many people willing to help. The Spiders had been surprisingly accepting of their Danchou moving out.

"I'm home!" Kurapika called, slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat. He shivered a bit. It was freezing outside. Far too cold for November. Sure enough, when he stepped into the living room, he found Chrollo, sitting in an armchair, a book in his hand, and the fire casting a warm glow over him. His hair falling into his eyes, which were aglow, like glowing embers. His clothes, much more casual than his usual suit, just a simple dress shirt and black trousers. How could one person look so carelessly inviting?

Biting his lip, Kurapika shook his head of any less-than-honorable thoughts and walked over to the fire. Kneeling down beside the fireplace, he held his hands out to the flames, relishing the warmth, but he felt eyes on him and they warmed him more than even the fire. He turned around, meeting those eyes with his own chocolate ones, and his husband slipped out of his chair without another word. Muscular arms pulled the blond to the other man's chest, onto his lap, and Kurapika said nothing in protest.

"So, how did Christmas Shopping go?" the man asked, fingers intertwining with the blond's.

"I think it went well enough," Kurapika answered. "No thanks to you."

Chrollo chuckled, and Kurapika felt a smile flit across his face despite his attempt at seriousness. "I'm sorry. However can I make it up to you, _darling_."

Just like a cat. Ready to pounce as soon as you slip up in your defenses.

"Chrollo," Kurapika, uttered warningly before a pair of lips pressed against his own. Chrollo's arms stayed put around his waist, and Kurapika twisted around on his lap to get a better angle, until the blond was straddling him with his arms gripping his shirt, fiddling with buttons. His breathing became heavier as he pressed himself against his lover, excitement filling him when he finally let his lips part. And then . . .

"Hey, Kurapika, you forgot your pho . . ." Nobunaga trailed off at the sight of them, and Kurapika would have laughed if the man hadn't just cut through the atmosphere like the blade of a knife cutting through butter.

"Hello, Nobu," Chrollo said, refusing to let the blond escape his grip, not that Kurapika was in any mood to struggle his way out of it. "Leave the phone on that table over there."

Nobunaga, still in shock, stiffly walked over to the table and dropped the sleek, black device on it. Kurapika had placed his chin on Chrollo's shoulder by then, almost impatiently. The dark-haired man ran a hand through his blond locks.

The samurai-wannabe left the room, but neither of them did anything until they heard the door slam shut.

Kurapika sighed. "I told you giving them all copies of our keys was a bad idea."

"It would be an inconvenience if I hadn't. Besides, Kortopi had volunteered to make them," Chrollo replied, standing up and pulling the blond with him. "We wouldn't want to disappoint our dear copy machine, now, would we?"

Kurapika pouted. "I suppose not. Well, I'm going for a shower. My feet are still completely frozen."

Chrollo planted a peck on his lips. "Go on, then. I'll join you in a few."

"Fine," Kurapika replied. "But hurry up."

"Don't want to be kept waiting?"

"Don't want all the hot water to run out. Our bill's high enough." And with that he left, climbing the stairs and disappearing into the corridor.

. . .

December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurapika and Chrollo's bedroom

Maybe he should just buy him a book. Chrollo loved books. He lived and breathed books. Besides Kurapika and the Spiders, they were probably the only things he would die for. But . . . but books were so . . . obvious. It was what Chrollo would expect from him. It was also something he could get himself.

He needed to get him something special. Maybe, a cat. Chrollo liked cats. He also liked dogs. He liked animals in general. A pet would be nice.

But, what kind of pet? What if Chrollo didn't like it? What if it didn't like Chrollo? What if one of the Spiders were actually allergic? And how would they keep it secret from him?

Kurapika groaned. This was impossible. How did one buy something for a man who seemingly had everything? Last year had been easy. His Christmas present had just been returning to Chrollo after a few years of evading him and another two months of trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. It had been the only thing he was missing. Now, he had him, his Spiders were all intact, and he could pretty much buy anything on the face of the planet if he chose to. Anything he could possibly want he would've gotten already.

The blond turned on his side, towards his lover who was still sound asleep and showed no signs of waking up soon.

"You're a real pain sometimes, you know that?" Kurapika muttered, reaching up and brushing some dark hair away from his lidded eyes. The man didn't even twitch. He looked the same as ever, a neutral look on his face. There was an arm wrapped around his waist, safe and secure. Kurapika traced it with icy fingertips from knuckle to shoulder and back again. And then, they were caged.

"You're freezing again, Pika," Chrollo chided, bringing him closer.

"I'm fine," he replied, though he let himself get pulled against the other man, hands falling on his chest. "I've been through worst."

Chrollo pressed his forehead to Kurapika's, and neither of them moved for those few seconds.

"What's bothering you?" he finally asked.

Kurapika smiled. "Nothing. For now."

"Ominous," the dark-haired man spoke, before planting a kiss on him. Kurapika responded with as much fervor as he could muster so early in the morning. The parted and Chrollo's lips slipped down to his neck.

"Chrollo," Kurapika managed. "What are you doing?"

"Warming you up," he answered, nipping at the blond's collarbone. Kurapika pulled at the man's chin, capturing his lips once more.

Kurapika let out a low moan, wrapping his arms around his neck. And then, his alarm went off.

Work. Right. He still had work to go to. Sheriff Mizaistom would kill him if he was late again.

"How much time can you spare?" Chrollo whispers against his skin.

Kurapika calculated the numbers in his mind. "Five minutes tops mmph!"

. . .

December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : The Kitchen

In the twenty-ish minutes it took Kurapika to shower and get dressed, Chrollo had made him breakfast.

"You didn't have to . . . you know I don't eat breakfast," Kurapika reminded. "I don't have time."

"So, you just drink coffee and grab an apple," Chrollo finished. "You also know that I disagree with your eating habits and make these meals for you anyway. So, stop complaining and eat."

Kurapika smirked, crossing his arms. "Are you my husband or my mother?"

Chrollo laid out two plates for them both. "I'm a man who would very much like his partner to be healthy enough to not faint in the middle of a case."

"It was one time. We weren't even doing anything!" Kurapika insisted.

"You're wasting time. Now, eat."

The blond's forehead furrowed. It was rare for him to take something so seriously. He left it alone, though. Instead, sitting down and cutting into his pancakes.

"They taste different than usual," he said, after letting the taste settle in. "It tastes like . . . gingerbread."

"They were Dimitri's favorite," Chrollo answered, simply. "I thought we could afford something more festive."

Dimitri. Chrollo's brother. Of course, how had he not thought of it sooner?

Kurapika sliced another piece of pancake. "You miss him, huh?" He popped the breakfast food into his mouth.

"Sometimes," Chrollo answered, though Kurapika had a sneaking suspicion it was a little more often than just sometimes.

"I know I miss them," Kurapika whispered. "Every day. I wonder what they'd say if they were still alive. If they'd be proud, or disappointed, or worried."

"Why would they be disappointed?"

"I married a wanted thief and killed two people," the blond deadpanned.

Chrollo leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "I would've won them over eventually."

"You'd be surprised," Kurapika murmured, prodding at his food. A hand cupped his cheek. Chrollo stared at him with dark, intense eyes. Like . . . like really dark coffee. No sugar, no cream, premium.

He really needed his coffee.

No, no, they were having a moment. He couldn't just ruin it like this.

"The people you killed were vile murderers who would've inevitably gone on to kill hundreds of other people. You caught a serial killer by putting your life at risk for a case that no one else would take. And you stopped a man from falling even deeper into a darkness he couldn't control. They have plenty to be proud of. And if they're not, let me assure you I will be ten times prouder to make up for it."

Heat rushed to his face and painted it red, but he managed a smirk and nuzzled into his hand. "How cheesy."

"It's a fact," Chrollo replied.

The blond put his hand over Chrollo's and removed it from his cheek. "See, this kind of talk is why I'm always late."

Chrollo put on that devilish smirk. "Oh, I know."

But not today. Today, Kurapika would be strong.

. . .

December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Police Station

"Detective," Mizaistom said, as soon as the blond emerged from the cold. "My office, now."

Kurapika raised an eyebrow but followed the taller man regardless. The Sheriff's office was a large room with two coffee tables on either side. Light filtered in from outside, the blinds were pulled up. That was good, at least. It couldn't be too bad if the blinds were still up.

Behind the desk, sat Sheriff Mizaistom in his cow-patterned chair. He steepled his fingers, a serious expression on his face. Right beside the desk stood a tall, muscular man with fair, curly hair, dressed in a suit. He had a handsome, square face and dark, intelligent eyes, and had Kurapika not been completely enamored with Chrollo, he might've felt his heart skip a beat. But he was, and all he felt was a friendly twinge of familiarity.

"I believe you two know each other?" Mizaistom said, gesturing to the man.

"We do," Bhavimania replied, stepping forward and offering his hand to shake. Kurapika took it. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, detective."

"The pleasure is all mine," Kurapika responded, charming as usual. "Forgive me for asking, but what's an FBI agent doing in our humble town? I do not believe anything warrants this? At least, I hope not."

Bhavimania smiled, fondly, and Kurapika stiffened just a little bit. "I'm here for you. We just got a case and I think you and Bill are just the people for it."

"What's the case?"

Bhavimania smile fell. He let out a sigh and Kurapika finally saw how tired the man was, noticed the purple shadows under his eyes. Now, unless he had taken to putting on eyeshadow, this meant this case was bad enough to keep him up. An impressive feat in and of itself, since Bhavimania's health-consciousness, was second to none.

"It would seem that Tserriednich had . . . followers," Bhavimania said. "They're picking up where he left off."

Cleansing the world of the stupid and ignorant. Making art of the rare talented individual. He'd suspected this but had thought time had proved him wrong.

"I see," he finally uttered, shifting a bit. "I'll help in any way I can."

"And Bill?"

"He's with his family for the weekend, but I'll talk to him on Monday," Kurapika said.

"Here's the complete case file," Bhavimania added, reaching into his suitcase and pulling out a sleek, black folder. Kurapika accepted it, opening it and glimpsing some rather gruesome photos of mutilated men and women, accompanied by full reports on the crime scene.

"If that is all, I'll be leaving now."

Both men nodded curtly, and Kurapika disappeared through the door.

It wasn't until he got to his desk that he finally let a bit of his panic seep into his face. An entire faction of Tserriednichs? He'd had trouble just taking down one. How could he even begin to take down an entire faction?

And what about Chrollo's birthday present?

Damn, where was Bill when he needed him? It wasn't like he could go to Pairo about this sort of thing? Who asked their ex-boyfriend about this sort of thing? Only a sadist. He wasn't a sadist.

What about Leorio?

He couldn't even hold down a relationship for more than a month and barely managed his life as it was. How could he even begin to help him track down Dimitri?

Kurapika groaned, flopping his head down on the desk. Before picking himself back up and opening the case file.

Time to get to work, then.

. . .

December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Outside the Police Station

"Heading back home?" Bhavimania emerged after him, a neutral expression on his face.

"Yeah, my coffee intake can only last so long, after all," Kurapika replied, putting on a mask of politeness.

Bhavimania chuckled. "Well, I'll get out of your hair, then. Just one question."

"Shoot."

"Do you intend to tell anyone about this case?" Bhavimania asked, serious again.

"No," the blond replied, "but Chrollo always had a knack for getting me to open up to him, so I'll probably spill eventually."

Bhavimania's face lit up in recognition. "Lucilfer? Your thief of a boyfriend?"

"Husband, now, actually," Kurapika shot back, politely, as he placed a strand of golden hair behind his ear. "And he's not a thief anymore."

Something akin to disappointment flit across his face, but it was quickly tamed. "Congratulations. How long have you been married?"

"Six months on the fifteenth."

"Almost half a year. I wish you many more," Bhavimania stated.

Well, this was awkward. Almost as awkward as having Pairo at the wedding, staring at him from time to time, longingly. Thankfully, by now the poor man had moved on more or less to another. More or less.

"Thank you." He began to make his way down the steps, to his car.

"What did you surmise from the file?" So, this was what he'd come here for.

"Not much yet. Each attack is different. Some more elegant, others far cruder, others incredibly painful," Kurapika answered, weighing his words. "It's like Tserriednich all over again. They're making 'art' out of things they believe to be worthless. Giving it worth. And each artist has their own way of doing things."

Bhavimania let a smile curl on his lips. "As expected, you really are the perfect man for this case. You understand exactly how these people think."

"Thank you?"

Bhavimania's lips parted in horror. And Kurapika held back a laugh. It was fun seeing him so nervous about something. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"It's okay. I understand."

"Well," Bhavimania started. "Congratulations again, on your marriage. Best not to keep your not-at-all-a-thief waiting."

Kurapika narrowed his eyes at the sarcasm but gave him a smirk anyway and headed to his vehicle.

. . .

December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurta-Lucilfer Household

"I'm home!" Kurapika called, walking into the living room. Chrollo wasn't there. Perhaps, he was in the Kitchen? Nope. Dining room? No. Bedroom? Yes.

"What are you doing?" Kurapika asked, sitting down on the floor beside him. Before him, stood a green-eyes tuxedo cat, playing with a ball of yarn. "Chrollo, what is that?"

"I'm not sure," Chrollo replied. "I think she's a mix between a tuxedo and Turkish van. I'm not sure what to name her, though? I like Snowfall."

"Eh, overused," Kurapika rejected.

"Tuxedo Van?"

Kurapika snorted. "She's a cat, not a store. How about Coffee Cream?"

"Your obsession with coffee is not gonna permeate into our first pet's name. Panda?"

"How about Penguin?"

Chrollo frowned. "But, are we really going to name our cat after another animal? What if it causes her to have an identity crisis? You know, like the one with the dog that thought it was an elephant?"

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "You sound like Gon. Besides, she'd need to actually spend some time with elephants for that to work."

"How about Yin-Yang?" Chrollo asked. "It fits her perfectly. With all those mood swings."

"Mood swings?"

"She couldn't seem to decide whether she wanted to attack me or hug me. Kind of like you. Maybe we should call her Kurapika Jr."

"Yin-Yang sounds good," Kurapika intervened. He didn't much like his own name, and would probably dislike it if it was tacked onto such a cute creature. The blond reached out to pet her, and she let him, purring. "Do you like that, Yin-Yang?"

"Oh, sure, she loves you now," Chrollo said. "Just wait a few hours, you'll see."

"That really does sound like me," Kurapika admitted, leaning against his shoulder. "However did you manage to find a cat version of me?"

"I stole her wallet and paid for her coffee with her money," Chrollo replied.

Kurapika smacked his arm, lightly. "Be serious!"

"Alright, alright," Chrollo sighed. "I found her wandering around outside, so I let her in. After some extensive searches, it turned out her owners died a few months ago and she ran away."

"I told you to stop hacking the government's computer systems," the blond chided.

"It's just a little research," Chrollo insisted.

Kurapika raised an eyebrow. "It's a crime."

"No one was hurt."

"That could qualify as a Class B felony. Twenty years jail time because you wanted to know where some random cat came from," Kurapika replied, leaning away. "I wouldn't be surprised if someone came to arrest you in the coming weeks."

Something sparked behind Chrollo's eyes, a wicked grin on his face, as he advanced on the poor blond. Kurapika leaned away, dutifully, though he didn't really mind Chrollo's proximity to him.

"Well then," Chrollo purred, "why don't you finish the job for them?"

"Chrollo, what did I say about pick-up lines?"

"That I'm not very good at them," Chrollo said, voice still low as his lips brushed his almost teasingly. "And yet, you still married me."

Kurapika hummed. "Whatever was I thinking?"

Chrollo pounced on him, capturing his lips and caging him in his arms. The man suddenly let out a painful groan, releasing his blond lover and turning to pry little Yin-Yang of his ankle. The other man couldn't help but laugh as the proud kitten marched over to him and curled into a ball on his lap.  
"My hero," Kurapika chuckled, running his fingers through Yin-Yang's soft fur.

Chrollo just rolled his eyes, leaning back on the palms of his hand with a grumpy look on his face. "Don't encourage her."

The blond smirked, before planting a chaste kiss on the other man's lips. He then stood up, Yin-Yang sound asleep in his arms, and walked downstairs.

"C'mon, it's time for dinner."

. . .

December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kitchen

"You're going to burn that," Chrollo said, peeking at the vegetables Kurapika was currently sauteing.

"No, I'm not. They're fine," Kurapika snapped, glaring at his husband. "Go sit down. I said it was my turn to make dinner."

The dark-haired man pursed his lips, unconvinced.

"What?"

"There's smoke," Chrollo pointed out.

Kurapika scoffed. "It's steam, not smo-"

The fire alarm suddenly went off. The two men shared a look, and Kurapika handed Chrollo the wooden spoon reluctantly.

"Fine, you take over," the blond muttered, crossing his arms and stalking over to one of the cushioned chairs in the dining room.

"So," Chrollo said, turning down the heat on the stove, "how was work?"

Kurapika stiffened. "It was fine."

The dark-haired man glanced at him, already sensing something was wrong. "I see, well, that's good." He placed the meal on a ceramic plate before putting it down in front of Kurapika, who was momentarily too distracted by the delicious stir-fry to notice his partner had disappeared. And for a few seconds, he didn't care. He was hungry. And he would eat whether his husband was there or not, but then, he realized where Chrollo had disappeared to.

The main entrance. Where he'd left the file describing in great, gruesome detail a series of sadistic murders committed by a faction of Tserriednichs, a man that had almost killed him.

The blond shot up from his chair and raced right into Chrollo, practically tackling him, while scrambling to take the sleek, black folder from his hand.

"Give it back, Chrollo!" Kurapika demanded, but Chrollo just held it out of his reach and continued to read the case file with one arm firmly latched around the blonde.

"So, there's more of them," Chrollo muttered, "and they want you to find out who they are."

Kurapika averted his eyes. "Pretty much."

"And you wanted to keep this from me because . . ."

"Well, it is sort of confidential information," Kurapika muttered, trying to escape his clutches, but Chrollo refused to let him go.

"Confidential information that you brought home and left at the door?" the dark-haired man interrogated.

"Well, I didn't expect you to just go through my things without my permission," Kurapika retorted.

Chrollo looked down at him. "I apologize. I wanted answers and knew you wouldn't spill fast enough. For the record, I won't try to stop you."

"I know."

"Then, why are you still worried?"

Kurapika bit his lip in deliberation. "Because I know you'll want to get involved."

"And that is my decision," said his husband, brushing his cheek and loosening his grip.

"You almost di-"

"So did you," Chrollo interrupted, eyes brooding. Kurapika placed his hand over the one splayed across his hip. They were both tired of this sort of thing, he gathered. Tired of always losing one another.

The blond sighed and buried his head in the crook of Chrollo's neck. A hand went up to brush his hair.

"I know," he began. "I just wish I didn't have to drag the people I love into these things."

"Hmm, I love you too," Chrollo replied.

Kurapika rolled his eyes. Of course, that would be what he focused on the most.

"Now," the man said, gripping the blond's shoulders and pushing him away, "go eat."

. . .

December 7th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurta-Lucilfer Household

"Working already?" Chrollo asked, sitting down beside the blond on the couch and handing him a mug of coffee. Yin-Yang let one eye slide open, before shutting it again and falling back asleep on Kurapika's lap. When it came to Kurapika's lover, she couldn't decide whether she loved or hated him. Sometimes, she was ready to gouge his eyes out, others she wanted to shower him with love and affection. So, maybe she was a bit like Kurapika in her treatment of dear Chrollo, but other than that, she was quite peaceful for a kitten. Then again, the only time Kurapika had ever showered him with love and affection was when he'd accidentally gotten drunk at Leorio's graduation party. Chrollo had been 'pleasantly surprised' since the dark-haired man usually had to show him twice as much love to make up for Kurapika's deficit. Apparently, his performance that day had more than made up for it.

Kurapika snorted at the memory, leaning his head on Chrollo's shoulder.

"A good detective never stops working," Kurapika replied, flipping to the next page of the report.

Chrollo's fingers, gentle and warm, pushed his golden locks over his shoulder, as his eyes skimmed the page. He said nothing but Kurapika could see something in those obsidian orbs. Recognition.

"You know who these people are?" Kurapika asked, incredulous. These criminal circles sure were small.

"I do. They're a small faction with members from all around the world. They all have one goal," he said. "Act as the catalyst to 'natural selection'. They don't usually leave behind any traces of their murders."

"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday when you were scavenging through my things?" Kurapika asked, lifting his head from his shoulder.

"I just skimmed it to figure what you were hiding from me," Chrollo replied, casually. "I hadn't pieced two and two together yet. So, Tserriednich was one of them?"

Kurapika nodded, slowly placing his head back down. "That's the verdict. How much do you know about them?"

"Just whispers. They're ruthless killers who take pride in their work and expect nothing in return. They feel they're doing the right thing. They're all in the higher ranks of society. Stuff like that," Chrollo answered. "You're not working on this case just with Bill, I hope."

The blond shook his head. "No, Agent Bhavimania and his men are on it too."

"Bhavimania?" Chrollo repeated, trying to jog his own memory. "The one who keeps hitting on you? That Bhavimania?"

"He doesn't hit on me," Kurapika said. "He's just being friendly."

"Have you seen the way he looks at you?" the man complained in faux annoyance. "It's not fair. I want to see you in your detective gear every day!"

"And you do. Every day, before I go to work," replied the blond, far more stoically.

"But that's for five minutes and I don't ever see you at work," Chrollo said. "And my point still stands. That guy keeps hitting on you. I don't know if you've noticed but I'm not very keen on sharing."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "Chrollo, you think half the world's in love with me."

Chrollo sniffed, haughtily. "As they should be."

The blond's chocolate eyes rolled heavenwards once more, but he snorted despite himself, shaking his head fondly.

"You're ridiculous."

"I love you, too."

. . .

December 12th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurapika and Chrollo's Bedroom

Kurapika awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. Blearily, he turned on his side, grabbing his phone off the bedside table.

The name, _Bill_ , flashed on the screen.

Dammit, not someone he could easily ignore. He'd better have a good reason for calling him at three in the morning.

"What is it?" he managed, yawning.

" _Sorry, did I wake you?"_ Bill asked.

Kurapika propped himself on his elbow, Chrollo's arm sliding down to his hips. "What do you think?"

" _Right, three a.m.. Sorry, it's just I was looking through the file and I found something interesting,"_ the man rambled.

"What is it?"

" _I think I might know where the next murder might be happening,"_ Bill said. _"Camenburg. My parents used to bring me there on weekends."_

"This couldn't wait until work because . . ."

" _It's going to happen tonight. Three hours, I'm thinking_ ," Bill replied, nervousness seeping into his voice.

Kurapika frowned. "How do you know all this? That's an awful lot you've figured out in the span of twelve hours."

" _Someone sent in an anonymous tip,"_ Bill answered _. "It was my shift, so -"_

How suspicious.

"Let me get this straight," Kurapika sighed. "You woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me that some anonymous caller suddenly had all our answers? Don't you find it suspicious."

" _Of course,"_ replied his partner, _"but it's worth checking out."_

Kurapika bit his lip. "I suppose you're right."

" _Great,"_ Bill said. _"I'll meet you there."  
_ The blond hung up, before letting his head hang for a bit. It was decidedly too early for this sort of thing.

"Are you going?" a voice murmured, and the arm around him loosened and fell away.

"I don't have much of a choice," Kurapika replied, pecking him on the lips. "You stay here."

"Most certainly not," Chrollo said, sitting up as well. "I won't let you thrust yourself into danger again."

"I'll be fine," Kurapika insisted. "Bill's there."

Chrollo pouted. Yes, pouted. "Fine, but make sure to leave your phone on and call once you're done."

"Understood," the blond responded, kissing him again. "I'll see you soon."

. . .

December 12th, XX26 : Age 25 : Camenburg Cafe

When Kurapika reached the place Bill had wanted to meet, his curly-haired friend was already seated and sipping some coffee.

"So, what's the verdict?" Kurapika asked, taking a seat in front of the man. Bill wore casual clothes, a sweater, and gray trousers. His light red hair was slicked back, as usual, reminding him a little of Hisoka, though the two were completely different in terms of personality. Bill was shorter than Kurapika by a few inches and possessed a thin build. Permanent eyebags shadowed his eyelids, though he insisted he wasn't tired.

"The tipster said it'd be somewhere around here, and to keep an eye out," Bill replied.

"Did you bring backup?"

"They're on their way," said the redhead. "Bhavimania and his men are coming over. You didn't bring Chrollo?"

"He figured I could take care of myself," Kurapika said.

Bill's forehead furrowed. "That doesn't sound much like Chrollo. He's usually so protective."

"Yeah, well, even Chrollo succumbs to the call of sleep sometimes," the blond spoke, that unique fondness seeping into his voice. "He was too distracted to put up a good argument."

"Or, he's secretly following you right now," Bill added.

"Or that," the blond admitted. "In which case, he'd better not show himself."

Bill snorted. "You really give him hell sometimes, huh?"

"You can't have heaven without a little bit of hell thrown in," Kurapika replied, crossing his arms, before turning to the waiter. The young man placed down a plastic cup in front of him. Kurapika brought the steaming liquid to his mouth. "He knows I love him."

"Most of the time," Bill recited.

"Naturally, I can't let him get too cocky."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, sipping on coffee and retreating to their own thoughts. Until Kurapika broke it again.

"So, is Reggie spending Christmas with you?" Kurapika prompted.

"No, uh, Lily decided to take her to her parents' house this year," Bill replied, trying to sound as offhand as possible, and failing miserably. If Kurapika could learn to translate the Spiders' subtlety into English, he could certainly read someone as sincere as Bill.

Kurapika swirled his coffee around a bit. "Why don't you come to our house, then?"

"What? Ah, no, I couldn't impose," Bill replied, but Kurapika could see he was seconds away from agreeing.

"It's fine, we'll be making an insane amount of food anyway," Kurapika insisted. "Come on, I need another sane mind besides Pairo in there. It's a bloody battlefield."

Bill finally laughed, before settling back down into that same anxiety. "Are you sure Chrollo won't mind."

"Trust me, he'll be too distracted to even notice," Kurapika said. With both him and Dimitri there, Chrollo wouldn't care about a few extra guests.

Bill smiled. "We'll see."

The blond reflected a smile of his own before something caught his eye.

"It's them," Kurapika said, eyes following the two figures dressed in black. A young woman with curly, dark hair and clothed in a black trench coat. Strings of pearls were wrapped her neck, and silver earrings dangled from her ears. She had a slender build and her suited companion easily towered over her. They looked like a young heiress and her bodyguard, but Kurapika knew they were more.

"How can you be so sure?" Bill asked, sizing them up.

The blond took out his phone and zeroed in on their hands. "The rings. They're the same as the one Tserriednich had worn when he'd tried to kill me."

"Seriously?"

The blond nodded. Silver set in a gold band with a single black diamond in the center.

"Then, what do we do?"

"We follow them," Kurapika replied, standing up. Bill gave him a look that was a cross between panic and exasperation.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "These people are dangerous."

Kurapika stood there, staring at him with that same deadpan expression.

"Right, you have a black belt, your husband's a wanted thief, and three psychopaths have already tried to kill you," Bill prattled, standing up as well. "Let's go."

The two of them walked out of the humble, warm cafe and into the cruel, cruel world. Kurapika zipped up against the cold, walking after their suspects without missing a beat, glancing at his phone every so often. He'd sent the pictures of both the rings and the two possible murderers to Chrollo. Chrollo being Chrollo, he would probably know who they were.

His phone lit up just a few seconds after he sent him the message. Kurapika opened it and his whole body momentarily froze.

 _'get out. now.'_

What?

Someone suddenly pushed him into an alleyway. His back hit the ground, and he gasped for breath before his airway was cut off again, and his assailant lifted him and threw him against the wall.

"Such a pretty face," the man whispered, running a finger along his jawline. "What is such a pretty face doing so far from home in so dark a night?"

Kurapika tried replying, but all that came out was strangled syllables lacking any strength or fervor.

"I wonder, does such a pretty face have to have such tragic an end," the man giggled, gold eyes glinting, as long auburn hair brushed the blond's face. "Do you know what they say?" He laughed again, nails digging into his neck. "Yes."

Lights began to appear before his eyes, the man's horse-like face blurring. Kurapika reached up to claw his hands off his neck, tried to free his legs, but nothing seemed to work. It was like he couldn't even feel pain. Meanwhile, Kurapika's vision was fading and his mind grew fuzzy and disoriented.

But then, the pressure around his throat fell away, as the strange man was beautifully manhandled across the alley. In front of him, stood a young man with raven hair and green eyes.

"You okay?" the man heaved, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath. Kurapika nodded, as he caught his own. His assailant, golden eyes furious, lunged at his savior but failed to account for Kurapika. The blond let his knee connect with his stomach, and that was all it took to throw him back into the wall, promptly knocking him out.

"Bastard," Kurapika muttered. "I'm not just a pretty face."

Silence followed, and the man whispered, "cool," under his breath.

The blond turned to the other and asked, "Who are you?"

"Dimitri," said the raven-haired man, and Kurapika noticed for the first time that he looked quite familiar. The slightly down-turned eyes, the dark hair, even his face shape. He looked like Chrollo.

Dimitri?

No way.

"Kurapika," the blond replied. "Thanks for helping me out there."

"Kurapika," the man repeated. "That's a strange name."

"I get that a lot," Kurapika admitted. "You wouldn't happen to know where my partner ran off to?"

The man's brow contorted, before loosening with recognition. "Oh, the one with the weird hair? Rubes is on it."

"Rubes?"

"I found the other one!" a monotonous voice announced, throwing a disgruntled Bill on the floor.

Dimitri crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Rubes? What did we say about the people we save?" The man turned to Kurapika with an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry about this. They're a bit strange when it comes to treating other people with care."

'Rubes' pushed some blond hair out of their eyes. Eyes that had taken on a strange purplish shade in the scarce light of the lamps back on the main road. They picked up the man and dragged him to the wall, setting him into a sitting position against it. They were dressed in all black, in a jacket and jeans and a black undershirt.

"These are the detectives you sent the tip too?" Rubes asked.

The tip? He sent it in? How did he know so much?

"Yup," Dimitri replied, popping the 'p', before glancing at Kurapika. "You must have a few questions. We have a lot of answers, but it'd probably be better if you tell us what you do know first."

Yeah, this had to be Chrollo's brother. The resemblance was uncanny.

"You somehow have information on a murderous faction that prides itself as the carriers of 'Natural Selection'. You, for some reason, thought to share it with us. Which mean that while you have the information, you lack the means," Kurapika listed off. On a good day, he might be able to figure out more, but this wasn't a good day.

"You're pretty smart, Pika!" Dimitri remarked, cheerfully.

"Don't ever call me that."

The man blanched at his icy gaze, gulped, and started speaking again, "any questions?"

"I have many, but first, are you a Lucilfer?"

Silence. His face grew stoic, dark.

"What?"

"Your last name. What is it? Or perhaps, I should say, do you have a brother named Chrollo?" Kurapika asked, excitement curling deep within him.

Dimitri glared. "What do you know about my brother?"

"He's kind of my husband," Kurapika replied, and Dimitri's mouth practically fell open. "It's a long story."

"H-he told you about me?" the man asked, and for a second, Kurapika saw the little boy Chrollo had talked about so often. Green eyes so hopeful that you couldn't imagine a day when that light faded.

"He told me everything," Kurapika replied, before remembering something he probably should've remembered earlier. "Where's my phone?"

"Oh!" his green-eyed brother-in-law said, digging into his pocket and pulling out the little device. "Here. It's a bit dirty, but it should be working fine."

Kurapika turned it on, entered his passcode and was immediately bombarded with twenty-three messages and ten missed calls, all from the same person.

"Could you give me a second?" he asked Dimitri, who nodded and stepped to the side, dragging Rubes along with him.

The blond took a deep breath, calming his features, and flicked Chrollo's number. "Hey."

 _"What happened? Are you alright? Where are you?"_ The flurry of questions came and went, Chrollo's voice growing more urgent every second.

"Calm down, I'm fine," Kurapika said. "I'll be heading back soon, please don't deploy your mini army."

" _I won't. Just hurry back,"_ Chrollo sighed.

"Okay. Bye." Kurapika finally said, before hanging up. Dimitri was staring at him with a look of pure shock.

"You really are married to Chrollo," he whispered. "How'd you manage that? Chrollo never showed interest in these sorts of things when I was around."

Kurapika shrugged. "I guess it was just a matter of time."

"Yeah," he replied, still processing this revelation.

"Can I see your phone?' the blond asked, figuring it was best to ask while he was still distracted. Sure enough, he forked it over without so much as a word. Kurapika punched in his number and handed it back to his husband's brother.

"Let's meet in Camenburg Cafe next week?" Kurapika arranged. "Now, help me wake Bill up."

. . .

December 12th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurta-Lucilfer Household

"Chrollo?" Kurapika found the man sitting in an armchair, eyes bright and alert, hands clasped in his lap. Pale fingers crept onto his shoulder, and the man took them and pulled Kurapika to him and onto his lap.

Chrollo pushed blonde hair away from Kurapika's neck, revealing purplish bruises and nail marks.

"They tried to strangle you," he remarked as if relaying the facts to some sort of imaginary third spectator.

"Yeah, he didn't get too far, obviously. Weird guy, though. Kept talking about how pretty I was. I know I'm reasonably attractive but it was all he seemed to think about." Kurapika recounted, curling his arms around Chrollo and laying his head down on his shoulder pensively. "It was like Tserriednich and the Volkovs all in one."

"How'd you get away?" asked the man, leaning back in the chair, still deathly serious, as if he was planning his wannabe assassin's murder right then and there.

"I kneed him in the stomach," Kurapika chirped, proudly.

Chrollo chuckled this time, and Kurapika reveled in the motion, the feel of his laughter, as a whisper of a smile made its way to his own lips. "That's the man I love."

"Well," Kurapika started, unraveling himself from their mess of limbs. "I'm going for a shower. Alleyways are wrought with disease, after all."

Chrollo let him, not offering to join like usual, and Kurapika breathed a sigh of relief. He needed a moment. The door shut with just a flick of his wrist, and he was met with a tired, beaten, and bruised reflection of himself. He looked awful. His blond hair was ruffled and windswept, but not in the Chrollo kind of windswept where it made one want to kiss the other. The kind of windswept that made you consider buying the other a brush. On his neck, there were bruises, colored an angry purple, reminding him of their abuse.

He exhaled. At least, he hadn't tried to burn him alive or anything.

Kurapika quickly undressed and turned the shower handle, letting the cool water hit him. His head cleared, focus returning to his newly found brother-in-law. Dimitri. He didn't seem to have a grudge against Chrollo, but he couldn't be sure until he had a proper conversation with him. And then, there was the question of Chrollo. How would he react to his long-lost brother showing up on Christmas Eve like some kind of Christmas present? What if he asked Dimitri to leave? What if there was more to there story than he let on? What if Chrollo got angry?

Kurapika shivered and it wasn't because of the water. He'd never seen Chrollo get seriously angry at anyone, let alone him. He always kept a cool head, but, seeing what he was capable of when he was level-headed, what would he do if he completely lost it?

Kurapika didn't want to push his limits, and he definitely didn't want to lead them down the path to divorce, but . . . they were family. And technically, Dimitri was his brother as well. Kurapika lost his entire family to a fire, seeing it torn apart by anything less than death was almost frustrating.

With that resolve, he shut the water off.

Chrollo was already lounging on the bed when Kurapika walked into the master bedroom. The man beckoned him forward, and soon, the blond found himself back in his arms.

"No more three a.m. work calls, okay?" the man murmured, already drifting off.

Kurapika snorted. "Deal. Say, can I ask you something?"

"Anything. You know you don't have to ask."

"Who were those people? How do you know about them?" Kurapika asked, kissing his shoulder.

"Ah, them. They're quite infamous in the underworld," Chrollo replied, staring up into the darkness as he lay flat on his back, just one arm holding the blond close. "Linda Lerse and her bodyguard, Percival, with whom she allegedly has sexual relations with."

"Stop saying things like that so casually," Kurapika sighed, shifting a bit to get a better look at his face. "So, how do you know they're so dangerous?"

"Ah, well, Linda and I used to be, eh, acquaintances," Chrollo said, clearly framing it more favorably than the actual circumstances.

"You slept with her, didn't you?" Kurapika sighed. "How long were you together?"

"A few weeks," Chrollo replied and Kurapika rolled his eyes. His old habits certainly came back to haunt them sometimes. Sometimes, Kurapika wondered what about him had convinced Chrollo to stay, but then he remembered that it wasn't just one particular characteristic. It was everything they'd experienced that brought them together, everything they still could experience that kept them together.

"Do you think she wants revenge?" Kurapika asked.

"Perhaps," Chrollo replied. "She was always a spiteful woman. Sadistic, too. She prided herself on her murders."

Kurapika frowned. "Why'd you go out with her, then?"

"I hadn't known until later on. It was what made me leave her in the end. Well, that and -"

"You got bored. Yes, I know," Kurapika finished, finally letting some bite into his words.

Chrollo suddenly enveloped him in his arms, burying his face in his blond hair. "There's only you now."

"Hmm, there better be," whispered the lover, though he'd never once doubted him. "I promise to keep you quite occupied."

"Oh?" His hand traveled south, but Kurapika caught it and placed it back around his waist.

"I think not. Especially after discussing you past escapades. You keep your hands to yourself," Kurapika scolded.

Chrollo pouted. "But I thought it was all in the past, Pika-chu!"

"I will throw you out of this bed," Kurapika said, turning on his side and away from Chrollo.

The man chuckled, throwing his arms back around him and pressing his chest up against Kurapika's back, his lips planting one soft kiss at the nape of his neck, before burying his face in his hair. And for once, Kurapika had nothing to say. So, he let his actions do the talking. His hands found Chrollo's, icy fingers intertwined with their counterparts. And then, slowly, the two men drifted off into dreamless sleeps, comfortable and safe.

. . .

December 17th, XX26 : Age 28 : Camenburg Cafe

Dimitri would be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit nervous. This guy was his brother's husband, after all, and his only tie to Chrollo at the moment. He didn't want to give him the wrong impression. He'd been working on finding Chrollo again for far too long to have it go up in smoke so close to the end.

Of course, there was a chance he was lying. Chrollo hated being tied down. Him getting married was unlikely, if not impossible. Even as a teen, he never stayed with one person for too long. But then, thinking back to the other man's defiance, all the strength he seemed to have locked away in that small frame, it became apparent that this Kurapika was different. Plus, he had a ring on his finger and called him by name and knew that he had a brother.

"Relax, Dimi," Rubes said, as they devoured their chocolate. Chocolate and nothing else. "He seems like an ok guy."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about," he hissed. "What if he decides we're complete freaks and doesn't let me see him? What if he calls the cops and sends us to a psychiatric ward?"

Laughter, soft and clear like windchimes, jingled from behind him, and Dimitri visibly flinched, before meekly looking over his shoulder. There stood a young man in his mid-twenties, blond hair layered to frame his face, and dark clothes outlining his figure. He wore a black coat and Dimitri saw the beginnings of a white sweater in the gap where it used to be zipped up. His eyes, a rich brown with flecks of gold, were shadowed by thick lashes and reminded him of the orbs of a cat. Beautiful and alert, like windows to another world.

"Believe me," he spoke, voice calm and mellow. They reminded him of Chrollo's somehow and sounded far different from the defensive, cold tone he'd possessed just a few days prior. "I'm well-acquainted with strangeness."

"Huh? Oh, right. Would you like to sit down? I mean, please sit down? I mean, if you'd like," Dimitri scrambled for the right words. Chrollo had always been the eloquent one, bending every syllable to his will. But the blond just laughed, not minding his performance and taking a seat in between him and Rubes.

"It's nice to finally be able to talk to you properly," Kurapika said, clasping his hands together on the table. "So, I suppose you probably have some sort of idea why I asked to meet you here."

"It's not just to get to know me, I gather," Dimitri said, scratching the back of his ear nervously.

Kurapika smiled. "No. I actually wanted to know if you'd like to come to our Christmas get-together. Chrollo always talks about you and I thought he might like to see his brother again after all these years."

Dimitri's hands clenched on his lap. "I don't know. I don't think he'd want to see me."

The blond smirked, closing his eyes. "Funny, that's what he said about you." Brown orbs opened up again. "Believe me. He wants to see you. He's just too scared to."

"Chrollo?" Dimitri scoffed. "Scared? I didn't know that was even possible."

"You'd be surprised." His tone made Dimitri wonder what had happened to make even his fearless brother scared. "So, will you come?"

Dimitri nodded, though he still felt uncertain. "Yeah. I think it'll be nice to see him again."

Kurapika gave him another dazzling smile before a sudden curiosity sparked in the depths of those cat-like eyes. "So, tell me, what was Chrollo like as a kid?"

"Huh?"

"You see, I keep trying to get things out of the Spiders but all they've got are glorious ideations of their fabulous Danchou. It's kind of unnerving, honestly," the blond said.

"Spiders?" he repeated. Surely, that didn't mean Chrollo had gotten pet tarantulas or something.

"Oh, right, they're practically his gang, and he's the leader, and they call them the Spiders. They follow him blindly and think he's the best thing ever, essentially. Like limbs following the head, hence the title, 'Spider'."

What? "He has a gang?"

"Yeah," Kurapika replied, accepting the coffee the waiter had just brought him. "They steal stuff from around the world every couple of months. All from organizations worse than them."

"And you're okay with that?" Dimitri asked.

The blond shrugged, bringing the caffeinated liquid to his lips. "I don't really care as long as they don't hurt anyone. Besides, the people the target totally had it coming. No one knows about this, though, so if anyone ever asks, Chrollo's just an art critic."

Dimitri snorted. "Seriously?"

"Yup. He's got the degree and certification and everything," Kurapika said. "He certainly enjoys getting into his role."

"You really know him well, huh?"

His brother-in-law pushed a strand of honey-colored hair behind his ear. "I have to. I can't just marry someone who I know little about."

"How long have you been, you know, together?" Dimitri asked.

"Officially? Two years. Unofficially? Six years. Married. Six months. We had our anniversary two days ago," Kurapika replied. "As I said, it's a long story."

"It took you four years just to get together?" He hadn't meant for it to come out so rudely, but he'd been surprised and Dimitri had never been a good actor.

Kurapika didn't take it too seriously. "There was always something holding us back."

"What convinced you?"

Silence.

"A really long talk."

. . .

December 17th, XX26 : Age 28 : Dimitri's apartment

"So, are you going?" Rubes asked, placing another stack of dishes next to the sink.

Dimitri glared at his newly added workload and snapped, "of course, I'm going! He asked so nicely. Besides, I want to see what Chrollo's been up to."

"Didn't he give you that scar?" they pressed on. "Have you forgiven him after all he's done to you?"

He pushed some raven hair out of his eyes with the back of his arms. "There was nothing to forgive. It was all my fault anyway."

"It is never all one person's fault," Rubes replied, and for a second, he saw the broken version of Rubes, the one who'd been misused and put down all their life. All for being different. And as usual, he felt the urge to hug them, because Rubes was amazing and didn't deserve to feel like that.

"Right," Dimitri muttered, "but I still want to see him."

Rubes grabbed the other sponge and proceeded to wipe off one of the plates. "I will come with you."

"Really?" Dimitri asked, feeling a weight leave his shoulders. It was like he could breathe again. With Rubes there, he could face a dozen Chrollos if he had to.

"Indeed," Rubes replied.

Dimitri wrapped his arms around them, pressing his cheek against his. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. This is gonna be the best Christmas Eve you've ever had!"

"At least, it won't be in this tiny apartment."

"Hey, you said you liked the place!"

"I do, but it is still tiny."

. . .

December 24th, XX26 : Age 31 : Kurta-Lucilfer Household

There came a clatter and an, "oof," and Chrollo forced himself out of his armchair and headed to Kurapika's office. Opening it, he noted that everything was still the same. The walls painted white, the shelves of books at the sides, the large window overlooking the forest outside. The white work desk and chair waited by one side of the door. And behind there should be his beloved.

"Kurapika," he said, looking over the edge of the desk, down to where his husband lay on the ground with a tissue box in hand. "What are you doing?"

"There's a spider," Kurapika hissed out, "on my damn shelf and I'm going to kill it if it's the last thing I do."

Chrollo shook his head affectionately. Kurapika's abhorrence for spiders was adorable at best, detrimental to his health at worst. And at the moment, it seemed to be both. Chrollo's dark eyes flicked over the shelf, looking for any sign of an eight-legged arthropod. Catching sight of it, he lifted a hand and let the little spider crawl onto his hand.

He set it free outside, and Kurapika, who'd followed him all the way there, just gave him an unsatisfied glare.

"What now?" Chrollo asked.

"You should've just killed it," Kurapika murmured, grumpily. "It's gonna freeze out there anyway."

"Spiders are a lot harder to kill than you'd expect, darling," Chrollo said, before letting a sly smirk curl. Kurapika's cheeks reddened immediately, though Chrollo suspected the blond didn't realize. He always blushed at times like this. It excited Chrollo's lesser self more than he'd like to admit. "But, you know that already."

"Chrollo," Kurapika breathed, taking in how close they'd gotten, lips barely touching. "What are you doing?"

"Controlling myself," Chrollo murmured, hands traveling to his hips, as he reigned in his imagination.

Kurapika chewed his bottom lip, and Chrollo found the action incredibly endearing.

"Don't."

His smirk turned into a grin before he finally gave into his desires and kissing him senseless. His Kurapika, his love, his, his, his.

But only as long as he wanted to be his.

. . .

December 24th, XX26 : Age 31 : Spider's Mansion

"Dude, what happened to your neck?" Phinks asked, eyeing Kurapika's neck warily. Chrollo followed his gaze to the little mess of hickeys and fading bruises scattered all over the graceful curve of his neck. Of course, the hickeys had been his doing, though the bruises had been left over from Kurapika's encounter with one of Linda's men, refusing to fade away after all this time.

"Don't ask questions that'll get you in trouble," snapped the blond, walking around the large man, and leaving Chrollo at the entrance.

"He's like a dictator," Phinks muttered.

"I know," Chrollo replied, proudly. "Isn't it wonderful?"

Phinks gave him a resigned expression before the two headed off to the dining hall, where there were twelve trees decorated with colorful lights and baubles and one long table where all the spiders sat, patiently waiting for their leader. Kurapika also sat towards the end of the table, near Chrollo's seat. It looked like every other Christmas, but Chrollo noticed several things that had changed. One, there were more people. Two, there was a small bed in the corner for Yin-Yang, who had promptly run over to it and laid down for a nap. Three, one of the extra people looked extremely familiar.

No, not just familiar. It was like looking in a mirror. Impossible. Chrollo walked closer and for a moment, their eyes met. Green. Green like his father's. Green like Dimitri's.

"It's nice to see you again, Dimitri," Chrollo said, giving his brother a small smile.

The boy's head shot up again, after being discouraged for just a millisecond before Chrollo's greeting. He returned his smile. "Same here, bro."

"Alright, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Chrollo said, sitting down in his chair, sandwiched between Kurapika and Dimitri. "Just because we're reuniting after all these years, it doesn't mean you get to call me _that_."

Dimitri snorted. "Still a priss, huh?"

"No, that's more up Kurapika's alley."

"Hey!"

. . .

December 24th, XX26 : Age 31 : Library In The Spider's Mansion

"You're angry," his lover asked.

Chrollo glanced at him, snapping the book in his hand close. "Why would you say that?"

"Chrollo," Kurapika drawled, hand on his chest, forcing him to face him fully, "I know you like to pretend for the rest of the Spiders, but don't you dare do it for me."

"I'm not angry," Chrollo insisted, words coming out harsher than intended. "And I don't pretend for them. I prefer to keep my emotions close to my heart, and that's where they'll stay."

Kurapika's forehead contorted in something like pain. "You don't have to do that, you know? It's okay to let other people in sometimes."

"I married you, didn't I?" Chrollo replied. "Besides, you're one to talk."

"Excuse me?"

"You forget how you treated your friends for all those years you were off overseas. You shut them out," Chrollo accused, looking down at him with cool fury. No, it was more annoyance than anything else.

"I did it to keep them safe!" Kurapika defended.

"I do it to keep _you_ safe!"

"From what? Yourself?"

"Yes."

Kurapika froze for just a second before his expression softened and cold hands came to cup his face. "I can assure you I can protect myself just fine."

"You'd be surprised," he whispered, as memories continued to flood his mind. The last time he'd let anger control him, let his emotions run wild, he'd lost Dimitri.

Kurapika suddenly wrapped his arms around his neck, letting his lips meet Chrollo's. Their bodies pressed close he could feel every muscle, feel the warmth radiating from the other man, feel their hearts drumming away. It was a rare occasion that Kurapika initiated a kiss, nevermind one as passionate as this, and while Chrollo enjoyed having Kurapika melt into the kiss gradually, having his face redden as he drew closer. This . . . this wasn't half bad. Perhaps, a bit sloppy and disoriented, but he didn't mind. It was quite thrilling, being the one on the receiving end.

Chrollo suddenly broke off the kiss, only to lift him onto one of the desks and meet him in the middle once more.

"Chrollo," Kurapika whispered, urgently, "I love you."

"I know," he whispered back, kissing him again, only to be pushed away.

"But," Kurapika started, jumping off the desk, "I'm not going any further than this in a library."

"So, home, then?"

"Home, it is. Just give me a second."

. . .

December 24th, XX26 : Age 26 : On the doorstep of The Spider's Mansion

Holidays equal overly-affectionate Chrollos. Got it. Now, where was the other one?

"He's gone outside," Rubes told him. "On the doorstep, brooding about."

Kurapika thanked them profusely, before heading towards the door. Sure enough, on the other side, sat a brooding, green-eyed Lucilfer.

"Hey," Kurapika announced his presence. "You okay?"

Dimitri just gave him a passing glance and turned back to the falling snow. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Then, what's with the face?"

"There's no face," Dimitri replied, taming his features, albeit unskilfully.

Kurapika smiled as he took a seat next to his brother-in-law. "Something's bothering you? I'm not leaving until you tell me."

Five minutes passed of Kurapika just . . . staring at the poor man, waiting for him to break under all the pressure and spill all the contents of his heart. It worked. After some squirming and shifting, the baby brother finally came through.

"I guess this just isn't what I expected," he replied. "I mean, just a few hours into my arrival, you two are already fighting. My brother is acting like nothing happened at all. And I just . . . maybe it'd be better if I just went back home."

" . . . You were listening to us fight?"

Dimitri's head spun around, eyes wide with horror. He made that expression a lot. "I didn't mean to. I just happened to be nearby and heard you two talking, and well, I might've eavesdropped a little bit, and I'm really sorry that you're fighting because of me."

"Don't give yourself so much credit," Kurapika chided. "We always argue, it's part of our dynamic. Rest assured that we made up immediately afterward. As for your relationship with Chrollo, well, what did you expect? The man's emotions are buried under a thousand layers of 'dead inside'."

"He seems pretty emotional around you."

"Yes, but they're almost always submerged," Kurapika explained, tossing his head back and staring at the clouds above. "I've never really seen him completely let it go. Except for that one time, but that took ten glasses of wine and probably wouldn't be good for his liver. I guess what I'm trying to say is that your relationship won't be mended in just a day. You'll piece it back together over time and it'll take a lot of work and you'll probably have your own share of arguments as well and they're gonna hurt. Honestly, I'd say it'll take years to patch this thing up, so if you don't give it your all, you'll just be making a bigger wound for me to heal. But if you really want this to work, and I assure you he does too, then you're going to have to be patient. Bloody hell, I sound like Leorio."

"Who's Leorio."

"Oh, no one."

"Hey!"

"Oh, look, no one's here," Kurapika teased, staring up at the older man. Leorio, Gon, Killua, and Pairo had all been invited, though Pairo had somewhere to go with his new boyfriend and ended up ditching them. Leorio called it karma, he called it rude, Chrollo called it good riddance. Yes, Chrollo and Pairo still weren't quite fond of each other, but at least they could somewhat tolerate each other.

Chrollo showed up behind Leorio, sticking a hat on Kurapika's head. "You're gonna be sick again, Kurapika."

"Nag," Kurapika and Dimitri chimed.

Chrollo looked between them, suspiciously. "Are you two conspiring against me?"

"Oh, look at the time!" Kurapika said, grabbing Chrollo's hand and pulling him to their car. "We best be off."

"So, you are conspiring against me?" Chrollo asked once they were both seated in their freezing car. The dark-haired man turned the key in the ignition and turned up the heat, seeing how his lover shivered from the cold.

"Maybe," Kurapika popped. "So, how was your Christmas?"

"Not bad," Chrollo admitted, pulling out of the driveway and heading down the forested path. "But there's still something I want to show you?"

"Oh?"

"You're not the only one who has been busy this season."

Kurapika cocked his head to the side, quizzically, hair tumbling over his shoulder.

 **. End of Chapter .**

 **A/N: Finally! I'm done. Done with this forty-six-page novella. Honestly, this was supposed to be short and sweet, but all these subplots kept butting in. I'm late by a week, but thankfully it's filled with holidays. Happy New Year, my dears.**

 **Question of the Year: Thoughts on Dimitri as a character?**


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